11:02 P.M. The last tray of jumbo chocolate chip cookies came out of the oven. The last of the batch, they look rather un-chocolatey but nearly perfect in roundness, sugary smoothness, and caramel color. The teenagers who were helping me left nearly three hours ago with three different types of dough to bake for the fundraiser tomorrow. Now, it's just me. And my purple cell phone, the white-flower-imprinted-on-black coffee mug I've adopted, and the computer at the kitchen table.
Two red pot holders and a red and white striped towel hang over the oven handle, placed intentionally by the heat to free them from the water so freely soaked into their fibers. The gas stove still has the dried, crusty spaghetti sauce splashed across it's surface in an artistic design from last night's dinner. Three stacks of cookies rise above the counter from the cooling racks, Cookie Monster's dream. Lemony white stockings, stars, and Christmas trees wait to be iced. The window has been ajar all evening in an attempt to counteract the double warmth of the oven on top of the city-heated apartment. (Energy inefficient, surely, but with no other method to regulate the temperature, it is what it is.) The two house plants I've placed in the kitchen in an attempt to keep them alive droop on their ledge between kitchen sink and window. Dishes fill the drying rack, the red bowl resting precariously on top of the ceramic plates and wooden spoon, the untouched dishwasher ironically just beneath them, only the counter top providing separation. Empty jars, waiting to be stored in the bench seat, stand guard next to the coffee accoutrements: beans, French press, grinder, electric hot water heater.
Welcome to my kitchen. Messy, used, almost always in process, a personal refuge.
Friday, December 07, 2012
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
Did you know...
...that you can use vodka for windshield wiper fluid? Evidently it's cheaper than washer fluid here, and with the added bonuses that it doesn't freeze and is widely available, it's the perfect alternative.
Sunday, June 03, 2012
Chocolate Heaven
I have eaten more chocolate in the last month than
I have in the last two years. For one, it's delicious, and it
is frequently given as gifts.
Birthday. Recognition. End-of-the-year thank yous. Just because.
Somehow I think it's going to counteract the running.
Walking Home
I walked home from my ESL class after rain showers had
swayed me to stay for tea while waiting for the rain to end. Grimy water
filled the pockmarks in the sidewalk, making an obstacle course out of side-stepping
ankle-deep muck while simultaneously avoiding other pedestrians accepting the
same challenge. Water swooshed through the gutters along the streets. Up above, clouds blocked the usual piercing
sunlight, cooling what had been a hot day unusually fast.
In the city square, the fountains still sprang up to their
usual height. In what must be an attempt
to create a pleasant atmosphere for tourists posing for pictures or lovers out
on their evening stroll, garbled music oozed out of the speakers. Ironically,
the record-player quality makes me think more of the grim scenes in Schindler’s
List than I do of parties or roses or happiness.
Nevertheless, the night still has a charm to it. Many people,
mostly youth, walk along the streets. Night clubs are open. Flowers in the arms of young women show the
romantic intentions of their date.
Street lights and signs give light to the sidewalk in pinhole bursts.
A few more streets to cross.
I gauge my go time for crossing by the blinking green light that tells cross traffic
it’s about to turn a quick yellow and then red.
A few more blocks. Past the first apartment building on my right. Down the driveway. Open the door with a magnetic key; up two
flights of stairs. Turn the key
twice. Slip the shoes off. Home.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Group Work
Supervising a film group after school today, I sat out of the way working on some grading and communication.
The two boys fiddled with the camera, pointing it outside the window, making sure the shot was right. They swung their arms back and forth, fixed the gloves they were wearing for their evidence scene, and talked. One, humming as he erased the board, asked me if I knew Frank Sinatra's song L.O.V.E. His dad listens to it. I found it on my computer and played it; we talked about swing dancing and showed some of the swing steps we knew.
Exasperated, one of them finally said, "Where are they?"
All this time they had been waiting on the girls to change their clothes for the next shot.
He walked into the hallway. "Hey! Are you guys almost ready?" he shouted at the bathroom door. No answer. "Hey! Girls! Come on!" No answer. "Hey! Are you guys ready yet?"
"No!" came the decided answer. "We still have to do my hair!"
He turned around, tightening his lips, left only to wait in annoyed tension.
I have to give it to them, though. Two girls, two boys--each gender is living up to it's stereotype and completely annoying the other sex, but they're making it work. Even if the girls spend 20 minutes in the bathroom prepping for the next scene filmed from two stories up.
The two boys fiddled with the camera, pointing it outside the window, making sure the shot was right. They swung their arms back and forth, fixed the gloves they were wearing for their evidence scene, and talked. One, humming as he erased the board, asked me if I knew Frank Sinatra's song L.O.V.E. His dad listens to it. I found it on my computer and played it; we talked about swing dancing and showed some of the swing steps we knew.
Exasperated, one of them finally said, "Where are they?"
All this time they had been waiting on the girls to change their clothes for the next shot.
He walked into the hallway. "Hey! Are you guys almost ready?" he shouted at the bathroom door. No answer. "Hey! Girls! Come on!" No answer. "Hey! Are you guys ready yet?"
"No!" came the decided answer. "We still have to do my hair!"
He turned around, tightening his lips, left only to wait in annoyed tension.
I have to give it to them, though. Two girls, two boys--each gender is living up to it's stereotype and completely annoying the other sex, but they're making it work. Even if the girls spend 20 minutes in the bathroom prepping for the next scene filmed from two stories up.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
FANBOYS
Such a great acronym for remembering coordinating conjunctions. I used the idea of my former student teacher Julie to actually make fans with my 6th graders to help them remember the acronym. I also added the rule that any time I said, "FANBOYS," they had to say, "Oh, it's so hot in here" and fan themselves. Class discussion, then, went something like this:
Me: "Okay, who sees the FANBOY--"
Students: (fanning themselves madly) "Oh, it's so hot in here."
Me: "--in this sentence?"
Student 1: "But."
(Male students snicker and exchange mischievous glances.)
Me: (ignoring the middle school humor) "Yes, but is the FANBOY--"
Students: "Oh, it's so hot in here."
(Male students giggle.)
Me: "Yes, but has two meanings, but the second one is spelled with two ts. What does the one we're talking about show about the sentence? Hmm? What does this FANBOY--"
Students: "Oh, it's so hot in here."
Me: "--mean in this sentence?"
Needless to say, it was a bit of a laborious lesson, though quite humorous.
My opinionated student told me today that he'd had quite enough of FANBOYS and could we please not say it any more? :)
Me: "Okay, who sees the FANBOY--"
Students: (fanning themselves madly) "Oh, it's so hot in here."
Me: "--in this sentence?"
Student 1: "But."
(Male students snicker and exchange mischievous glances.)
Me: (ignoring the middle school humor) "Yes, but is the FANBOY--"
Students: "Oh, it's so hot in here."
(Male students giggle.)
Me: "Yes, but has two meanings, but the second one is spelled with two ts. What does the one we're talking about show about the sentence? Hmm? What does this FANBOY--"
Students: "Oh, it's so hot in here."
Me: "--mean in this sentence?"
Needless to say, it was a bit of a laborious lesson, though quite humorous.
My opinionated student told me today that he'd had quite enough of FANBOYS and could we please not say it any more? :)
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Play Time
We drove about two hours out of town to reach the village. Paved road gave way to wide gravel road to partially paved, partially dirt road. The snow-topped mountains seemed much closer, though we were not yet in the foothills.
At the village club house, the village elders ushered us into their ESL room, replete with computers and an ESL teacher excited to welcome us and tell us about her ESL classes. Then, a meeting of the minds occurred as plans for the day were discussed. We were there to play games with the kids--all kids, including those with disabilities--in celebration of Invalid Day. Normally, I understand, kids with disabilities have very few options here.
After the formal decision-making was made regarding where to play the various games and how to divide the children into groups, we moved outside to welcome the children, who had already been playing outside the gates, into the yard. The village leaders formed them into four lines, shortest to tallest, and waited for latecomers to divide them as evenly as possible into the teams.
Jo lead two of the teams in a game of kickball. The translator, having not played the game before, was uncertain about how to describe running the bases and outs. We found it easier to place the children in their positions and show them how to roll the ball, how to catch it and tag someone out, how to run the bases in order. The older boys, who were around thirteen, loved it. The first group was very helpful and directed the little kids to run from second to third when the ball was kicked; the second group was ornery, telling the little kids who ran to first to turn around and run back home.
While waiting to switch groups and activities, I entertained two teams with a Simon Says turned learn-body-parts-in-English game. "Simon says touch your head," I said, touching my head. The kids nearest me looked at me out of the corner of their eyes. "Simon says touch your nose," and I touched my nose. A few of the older ones half-heartedly touched their nose and laughed. I continued, eventually dropping "Simon says" and even "touch", leaving us with a rapid motion, "Nose. Ears. Knees. Toes. Knees. Toes. Knees...." They giggled, all of them repeating the words and movements after me, laughing harder when I wiggled my ears back and forth as I said, "Ears," or made them bend over and touch their toes only to immediately stand up and touch their shoulders. Only a few minutes of this, and then switch. New activity!
The kids seemed to thoroughly enjoy the events Sandra planned. The adults with our group and from the village assisted the kids in each event, cheering them on, adjusting leg bands, making sure popped balloons got replaced, and leading them around the right marker. Relays, three-legged races, a variation of dodge ball, water balloon volleyball, sack races, kickball, and red light, green light lead to lots of smiles and laughter. Before leaving, the kids received a couple of pieces of candy for the walk home.
Hopes are that part of the group can return for Children's Day on June 1. I won't be able to since I'll be teaching, but the village leaders are excited about the huge event they are planning to celebrate their kids.
At the village club house, the village elders ushered us into their ESL room, replete with computers and an ESL teacher excited to welcome us and tell us about her ESL classes. Then, a meeting of the minds occurred as plans for the day were discussed. We were there to play games with the kids--all kids, including those with disabilities--in celebration of Invalid Day. Normally, I understand, kids with disabilities have very few options here.
After the formal decision-making was made regarding where to play the various games and how to divide the children into groups, we moved outside to welcome the children, who had already been playing outside the gates, into the yard. The village leaders formed them into four lines, shortest to tallest, and waited for latecomers to divide them as evenly as possible into the teams.
Jo lead two of the teams in a game of kickball. The translator, having not played the game before, was uncertain about how to describe running the bases and outs. We found it easier to place the children in their positions and show them how to roll the ball, how to catch it and tag someone out, how to run the bases in order. The older boys, who were around thirteen, loved it. The first group was very helpful and directed the little kids to run from second to third when the ball was kicked; the second group was ornery, telling the little kids who ran to first to turn around and run back home.
While waiting to switch groups and activities, I entertained two teams with a Simon Says turned learn-body-parts-in-English game. "Simon says touch your head," I said, touching my head. The kids nearest me looked at me out of the corner of their eyes. "Simon says touch your nose," and I touched my nose. A few of the older ones half-heartedly touched their nose and laughed. I continued, eventually dropping "Simon says" and even "touch", leaving us with a rapid motion, "Nose. Ears. Knees. Toes. Knees. Toes. Knees...." They giggled, all of them repeating the words and movements after me, laughing harder when I wiggled my ears back and forth as I said, "Ears," or made them bend over and touch their toes only to immediately stand up and touch their shoulders. Only a few minutes of this, and then switch. New activity!
The kids seemed to thoroughly enjoy the events Sandra planned. The adults with our group and from the village assisted the kids in each event, cheering them on, adjusting leg bands, making sure popped balloons got replaced, and leading them around the right marker. Relays, three-legged races, a variation of dodge ball, water balloon volleyball, sack races, kickball, and red light, green light lead to lots of smiles and laughter. Before leaving, the kids received a couple of pieces of candy for the walk home.
Hopes are that part of the group can return for Children's Day on June 1. I won't be able to since I'll be teaching, but the village leaders are excited about the huge event they are planning to celebrate their kids.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Semi-Pioneer Days
I felt spoiled this morning by using a full pot of hot water for my bath. We have a month without hot water (still cold running water, thankfully), and we're too cheap to buy a water heater. It makes me feel very Laura Ingalls Wilder. And at least we don't have to reuse the bathwater in order of age.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Back to Sesame Street
Armed with a rudimentary knowledge of Russian numbers, I split off from my roommate today at the market to make purchases on my own. I must confess that--other than saying adin (one) and kilo (kilo)--my language failed big time, and I resorted to a series of gestures and pointing with a few Spanish words mixed in (because evidently my brain registers "foreign language" as synonymous to "Spanish" even though this Romance language does little good here).
To attain some sense of success, I introduced myself to a couple of nice ladies selling me produce. Asking their names and stating my own is about as far as my Russian reaches beyond hello and good-bye. They seemed pleased with the introduction. Hopefully I will remember the names and be able to communicate more effectively with them next time.
To attain some sense of success, I introduced myself to a couple of nice ladies selling me produce. Asking their names and stating my own is about as far as my Russian reaches beyond hello and good-bye. They seemed pleased with the introduction. Hopefully I will remember the names and be able to communicate more effectively with them next time.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Run On
It's nice to be back in tow with my exercise mentor Jo. We've gotten to go running together several mornings thus far. Early morning runs let us be out before the big crowds, running into a few early birds and street sweepers. We also get an amazing view of the mountains on clear days--eye candy for sure. I can also keep up with the running PE class at school--we got to jog through several parks and over to the stadium to complete our workout last Friday.
It looks like the only challenges to running here thus far are 1) staying upright (yes, I've already had one good spill. Excuse: uneven pavement) and 2) street dogs. They're a little intimidating, even if they are only terrier size. Kicking at them or throwing something in their direction seem to stave them off.
It looks like the only challenges to running here thus far are 1) staying upright (yes, I've already had one good spill. Excuse: uneven pavement) and 2) street dogs. They're a little intimidating, even if they are only terrier size. Kicking at them or throwing something in their direction seem to stave them off.
Yay, mountains! And they extend both directions.
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
New Eats
I've been fortunate to go out with friends who can read Russian. Fortunate, I say, because so far the only words that I understand on Russian menus are things like Jack Daniels and Absolut (that's for you, Matt!).
Unlike in Guatemala, there are no American fast food places here. So, no craving McDonald's cheeseburgers for me, I hope--nowhere to get them. And kind of a relief, too. Korean food, on the other hand, is a hot commodity here. I'm finding it to be quite delicious, which is fantastic because we get Korean food provided at the school Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Lots of rice, chicken cooked in all sorts of yummy sauces, and veggie salads.
I hear Indian food is another treat, though I haven't had opportunity to sample it for a meal yet. Then there's learning the traditional food, things like somsis (like meat and onion empanadas), logmon (noodles and beef and veggies), and the five-fingers dish, so called because it's traditionally eaten with the hand. (Spelling?)
Perhaps the only unsettling discovery in food for me thus far is that meat refers to both meat and fat, so something that looks and smells scrumptious, like somsis, have fat balls within that tend to depress my appetite. Secondly, I've learned that I much prefer seeing horses running through or grazing in the bluegrass of Kentucky than to see them in round little discs of meat and fat on my plate. The oily residue of meat and onions stayed in my mouth nearly a full twelve hours, teeth-brushing time included, after consuming it.
Russian=a formidable language to master (except when it comes to vodka)
Unlike in Guatemala, there are no American fast food places here. So, no craving McDonald's cheeseburgers for me, I hope--nowhere to get them. And kind of a relief, too. Korean food, on the other hand, is a hot commodity here. I'm finding it to be quite delicious, which is fantastic because we get Korean food provided at the school Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Lots of rice, chicken cooked in all sorts of yummy sauces, and veggie salads.
I hear Indian food is another treat, though I haven't had opportunity to sample it for a meal yet. Then there's learning the traditional food, things like somsis (like meat and onion empanadas), logmon (noodles and beef and veggies), and the five-fingers dish, so called because it's traditionally eaten with the hand. (Spelling?)
Perhaps the only unsettling discovery in food for me thus far is that meat refers to both meat and fat, so something that looks and smells scrumptious, like somsis, have fat balls within that tend to depress my appetite. Secondly, I've learned that I much prefer seeing horses running through or grazing in the bluegrass of Kentucky than to see them in round little discs of meat and fat on my plate. The oily residue of meat and onions stayed in my mouth nearly a full twelve hours, teeth-brushing time included, after consuming it.
The horse meat dish. The presentation is so enticing (except for the rounds of fat or other innards on the left side)! I also love the sugar cubes in the glass nearby. Now that I think of it, it's quite appropriate that these two dishes are next to each other.
Yummy logmon.
Serving tea with the traditional gesture of respect: left hand supporting the serving hand and waiting until the cup is received by hand
Sitting at a topjon with ladies from school. No shoes on the topjon!
Tuesday, May 08, 2012
Thirty Years
I realized recently that I have spent nearly the whole of last year saying I was almost thirty. (What happened to twenty-nine? Crazy, crazy.) While it sounds fun to make my goal to be thirty and flirty, I would like to focus on being aware of who God is and who I am and seeing how this perspective impacts life.
I've decided I want to remember my family today. After all, they have put up with me these thirty years and helped shape me. I have been struck again with the blessing I have of being supported by them, something I've come to understand at a new level these past few months. So, mi familia, whether you remember me as the alter-ego, double-ponytail, ornery Elizabeth, the specimen to be studied at the dinner table, the over-achieving student, the kabosher on racial and immigration jokes, the indecisive daughter, the tough cookie, the crazy food eater, the baker, or whomever, I love you, guys! :)
Me and the 'rents
New nephew and my big sis 'Tina
With Ricky Doodle in Charleston
I've decided I want to remember my family today. After all, they have put up with me these thirty years and helped shape me. I have been struck again with the blessing I have of being supported by them, something I've come to understand at a new level these past few months. So, mi familia, whether you remember me as the alter-ego, double-ponytail, ornery Elizabeth, the specimen to be studied at the dinner table, the over-achieving student, the kabosher on racial and immigration jokes, the indecisive daughter, the tough cookie, the crazy food eater, the baker, or whomever, I love you, guys! :)
 | |||||
| Easter time...only missing the Hammbone |
Mama Mia and Me
'Ra and me at Pizza Hut
Davey boy and me in Triangle Park
Monday, May 07, 2012
Modern Day Pen Pals
One of my fondest memories as a middle schooler was receiving letters from my pen pal So-Young. I religiously checked the mail, hoping to see a light-weight envelope trimmed in red and blue bear witness to its being transported via airmail. I pored over her letters, delighting in her penmanship, little faces (pre-emoticons, I think!), and thoughtful enclosures. I wrote drafts of nearly all my early letters back to her and read many aloud to my mom as she cooked dinner to make sure my letters back to South Korea were as perfect as I could make them.
The impending school year and the known unreliability of the Guatemalan delivery system is shifting our pen pal exchange to an electronic version, but I am excited about it nonetheless. My sixth, seventh and eighth graders have written letters to my former Guatemalan students, who are now in sixth grade. We are all anxiously awaiting their answers. I hope this can be an eye-opening experience for both sides, this communication between these Guatemalan, Korean, British, Australian, American, and New Zealander students.
The impending school year and the known unreliability of the Guatemalan delivery system is shifting our pen pal exchange to an electronic version, but I am excited about it nonetheless. My sixth, seventh and eighth graders have written letters to my former Guatemalan students, who are now in sixth grade. We are all anxiously awaiting their answers. I hope this can be an eye-opening experience for both sides, this communication between these Guatemalan, Korean, British, Australian, American, and New Zealander students.
Sunday, May 06, 2012
Loving the Quirks
Friday, as you know, was May the 4th. My six graders were very excited to celebrate. Come the day of, one wore her hair in low side buns and three brought their light sabers to help them wish everyone a happy "May the fourth be with you."
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Limbo La-La Land on Hold
Now that I'm in Central Asia for the next seven weeks, I feel like I will have a little bit of stability. Yes, I realize it's ironic to feel that way having gone halfway around the world, but I am looking forward to staying in the same place for a bit.
The teaching highlight for today was playing two truths and a lie with the sixth graders to get to know each other a little bit. One boy was disappointed that he gave himself away by putting some of his information in the letter he wrote me--he hates mushrooms, evidently.
The cultural highlight for today was going to an Uzbek restaurant with Jo and two other teachers from the school. I enjoyed getting to know the other teachers. I also enjoyed the food. The restaurant had beautifully embroidered table clothes, walls with paintings of the buildings in the Uzbek city after which the restaurant was themed, and ornate serving dishes. I ordered a noodle dish with beef and vegetables that came in a flavorful broth. We also drank black tea. I don't know a lick of Russian yet, so the only thing recognizable to me on the menu were names of alcoholic beverages. Evidently those don't require translation.
I am hoping to start Russian lessons soon--hopefully I'll soon recognize these letters and a few words!
The teaching highlight for today was playing two truths and a lie with the sixth graders to get to know each other a little bit. One boy was disappointed that he gave himself away by putting some of his information in the letter he wrote me--he hates mushrooms, evidently.
The cultural highlight for today was going to an Uzbek restaurant with Jo and two other teachers from the school. I enjoyed getting to know the other teachers. I also enjoyed the food. The restaurant had beautifully embroidered table clothes, walls with paintings of the buildings in the Uzbek city after which the restaurant was themed, and ornate serving dishes. I ordered a noodle dish with beef and vegetables that came in a flavorful broth. We also drank black tea. I don't know a lick of Russian yet, so the only thing recognizable to me on the menu were names of alcoholic beverages. Evidently those don't require translation.
I am hoping to start Russian lessons soon--hopefully I'll soon recognize these letters and a few words!
Monday, February 27, 2012
Limbo La-La Land
People like to ask where I am now and what I'm doing. I certainly can't blame them because I have often (and still do) the same to others. Like college students. And high school seniors. And retirees. Poor people.
They're great questions if you know the answers to them. If you don't, I'm finding, at least for me, answering them requires lots of patience. Or maybe it's humility. I should just say, "I don't know," but I often chicken out and try to prettify my answer by relying on my "facility of language" to make the long explanation of options and choices and dilemmas concise enough to fit into a one-sentence answer.
And believe me, I can create some very long sentences especially when I have fifty things to say and I really want to give you a complete picture of the ins and outs of my thinking because I really don't want you to think I'm a lazy person who has no motivation at all even though some days I feel like that and to prove it let me tell you I've applied here and there or recently found out information about this thing and that thing and, oh, yes, doesn't that sound great? and how on top of that I'm struggling with relationships and figuring out what normal is again and--oh, wait! I'm not finished yet but you have to run so I understand and yeah, we'll catch up again another time. Hope you have a great day!
Whew. That process has been agonizingly painful. Almost every time.
It came to me this past weekend that the best answer for now is that I'm in Limbo La-La Land. I'm limbo-ing between two states and between two vastly different paradigms of life while contemplating another in the name of figuring out what's best for me at this moment. There is some definition on the horizon, but it's amazing how nebulous it appears from different daily vantage points.
The not-too-funny ironic thing is, I fear I may be the one blurring something God sees as purely straightforward by residing in Limbo La-La Land.
They're great questions if you know the answers to them. If you don't, I'm finding, at least for me, answering them requires lots of patience. Or maybe it's humility. I should just say, "I don't know," but I often chicken out and try to prettify my answer by relying on my "facility of language" to make the long explanation of options and choices and dilemmas concise enough to fit into a one-sentence answer.
And believe me, I can create some very long sentences especially when I have fifty things to say and I really want to give you a complete picture of the ins and outs of my thinking because I really don't want you to think I'm a lazy person who has no motivation at all even though some days I feel like that and to prove it let me tell you I've applied here and there or recently found out information about this thing and that thing and, oh, yes, doesn't that sound great? and how on top of that I'm struggling with relationships and figuring out what normal is again and--oh, wait! I'm not finished yet but you have to run so I understand and yeah, we'll catch up again another time. Hope you have a great day!
Whew. That process has been agonizingly painful. Almost every time.
It came to me this past weekend that the best answer for now is that I'm in Limbo La-La Land. I'm limbo-ing between two states and between two vastly different paradigms of life while contemplating another in the name of figuring out what's best for me at this moment. There is some definition on the horizon, but it's amazing how nebulous it appears from different daily vantage points.
The not-too-funny ironic thing is, I fear I may be the one blurring something God sees as purely straightforward by residing in Limbo La-La Land.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Hmmmm...
Returned home from being out of state and found something very curious on the dinner table:
Bag Balm.
It's in this really cute square tin decked out in holiday colors, though upon closer look it's the green of clovers and the deep pink of clover flowers.
I'll be honest. I wasn't sure what Bag Balm is supposed to be for. I have heard there are several parts of the body that may be referred to as bags, and any of these parts--accurately referred to as such or only in slang--didn't deem this kind of thing something to be out on a table. Upon closer look, though, I realized it is truly intended for the delicate utters of dairy cows.
Last time I checked, we didn't have any dairy cows milling around out back.
Why on the table? Evidently it doubles as moisturizer for human hands. Hence why it is on our dining table, a catch-all for dinner plates and anything else that needs a temporary storage place, like Bag Balm.
Bag Balm.
It's in this really cute square tin decked out in holiday colors, though upon closer look it's the green of clovers and the deep pink of clover flowers.
I'll be honest. I wasn't sure what Bag Balm is supposed to be for. I have heard there are several parts of the body that may be referred to as bags, and any of these parts--accurately referred to as such or only in slang--didn't deem this kind of thing something to be out on a table. Upon closer look, though, I realized it is truly intended for the delicate utters of dairy cows.
Last time I checked, we didn't have any dairy cows milling around out back.
Why on the table? Evidently it doubles as moisturizer for human hands. Hence why it is on our dining table, a catch-all for dinner plates and anything else that needs a temporary storage place, like Bag Balm.
Sunday, February 05, 2012
Zumba with Jorge
Jorge is a middle-aged latino man who wears glasses. He wore bright orange exercise pants and used the key word "vamos" to move us from exercise to exercise. He does lead a mean routine. And I loved it!
One of his tricks, I think, is to avoid stopping between songs. He's got the music lined up so that the transitions between songs are barely long enough to grab a sip of water. Cardio is huge, but he intermixes it with a few strength moves and songs to slow down the heart rate after making it race. Additionally, he's got rhythm.
The best part was that Jorge incorporated truly traditional Latin steps--many of the same ones I saw in Guatemala during public dance displays. In Guatemala, the dancers were often in costume. Whether they dressed as a monster or a cartoon character, the costumes are top notch, and the group is practiced. They dance like the music is their pulse, their feet barely moving the ground as they maintain the rapid rhythm. The result is that is looks incredibly smooth and intoxicating, full of energy that seems like it can hardly be maintained or contained.
Having a chance to try out some of these steps was an absolute blast. Intertwined with the occasional jumping bursts of energy, zumba like this is well worth my time.
And yes, I was a little sore the next day.
One of his tricks, I think, is to avoid stopping between songs. He's got the music lined up so that the transitions between songs are barely long enough to grab a sip of water. Cardio is huge, but he intermixes it with a few strength moves and songs to slow down the heart rate after making it race. Additionally, he's got rhythm.
The best part was that Jorge incorporated truly traditional Latin steps--many of the same ones I saw in Guatemala during public dance displays. In Guatemala, the dancers were often in costume. Whether they dressed as a monster or a cartoon character, the costumes are top notch, and the group is practiced. They dance like the music is their pulse, their feet barely moving the ground as they maintain the rapid rhythm. The result is that is looks incredibly smooth and intoxicating, full of energy that seems like it can hardly be maintained or contained.
Having a chance to try out some of these steps was an absolute blast. Intertwined with the occasional jumping bursts of energy, zumba like this is well worth my time.
And yes, I was a little sore the next day.
Thursday, February 02, 2012
Meal #2: Breakfast is Served
Menu: Wholegrain Pancakes (p. 240), coffee, grapefruit
I had a hankering for potato pancakes on a Saturday. Leftover brown rice encouraged me to use this recipe from Clean Food that would incorporate the brown rice with sweet potato as its base. The pancake mix ends up being pretty chunky with the rice grains and shredded potato. I liked that you bake them instead of putting them on a griddle--the only trick for me was keeping the pancakes together when I flipped them and scooped them off. While putting maple syrup on them seemed a little unexpected--the food seems saltier than sweet--I preferred that to an applesauce topping. Mom and I gave it the thumbs up, and the leftovers became a tasty, quick breakfast for a couple of days.
I had a hankering for potato pancakes on a Saturday. Leftover brown rice encouraged me to use this recipe from Clean Food that would incorporate the brown rice with sweet potato as its base. The pancake mix ends up being pretty chunky with the rice grains and shredded potato. I liked that you bake them instead of putting them on a griddle--the only trick for me was keeping the pancakes together when I flipped them and scooped them off. While putting maple syrup on them seemed a little unexpected--the food seems saltier than sweet--I preferred that to an applesauce topping. Mom and I gave it the thumbs up, and the leftovers became a tasty, quick breakfast for a couple of days.
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
ACT: The Remake
When one of my former colleagues asked me to assist with an ACT prep session, I figured that the best way to become familiar with the ACT again was to, well, take it. The practice one, anyways. At least the sections I was responsible for presenting.
I found that, as a high school English teacher, my ACT English score was pretty fantastic. I'm sure it would have been absolutely perfect if I hadn't been watching TV at the same time as taking the test.
And as a person who hasn't had any math since the first year of college, my ACT Mathematics score left a little to be desired. (Really, who expects us to remember the quadratic formula and how to solve equations with matrices?)
I find myself often reflecting on our system of doing things, and it sometimes annoys me both how much I am a product of our system and how much it influences my thinking. So much so that acing the English part and not acing the Math part even now, as an adult, still gives me an alternative feeling of superiority followed by shame (and then a little pride that even so, it wasn't that low). And I take a step back from the picture and...ridiculous.
Maybe, then, that's the advice I ought to take for myself and leave with the kids at some point during the session: the ACT may be your ticket to college and scholarships, but don't rely on it to define who you are.
[There it is, that intangible catch phrase--who you are. I'm not sure which is better: the clearly defined path where you just go and do the next thing and it's there--high school, ACT/SAT, college, job--or this nebulous concept of doing those things to succeed in society but paradoxically superseding them to become who you are in spite of them.]
I found that, as a high school English teacher, my ACT English score was pretty fantastic. I'm sure it would have been absolutely perfect if I hadn't been watching TV at the same time as taking the test.
And as a person who hasn't had any math since the first year of college, my ACT Mathematics score left a little to be desired. (Really, who expects us to remember the quadratic formula and how to solve equations with matrices?)
I find myself often reflecting on our system of doing things, and it sometimes annoys me both how much I am a product of our system and how much it influences my thinking. So much so that acing the English part and not acing the Math part even now, as an adult, still gives me an alternative feeling of superiority followed by shame (and then a little pride that even so, it wasn't that low). And I take a step back from the picture and...ridiculous.
Maybe, then, that's the advice I ought to take for myself and leave with the kids at some point during the session: the ACT may be your ticket to college and scholarships, but don't rely on it to define who you are.
[There it is, that intangible catch phrase--who you are. I'm not sure which is better: the clearly defined path where you just go and do the next thing and it's there--high school, ACT/SAT, college, job--or this nebulous concept of doing those things to succeed in society but paradoxically superseding them to become who you are in spite of them.]
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Unexpected Geyser
It's amazing how one little likeness can make the tears flow. And really, this time it was Undercover Boss?
I only caught the end of the show. Not enough time to get emotionally involved, right? Wrong. The boss sat out on the patio individually with his three really good employees that he discovered. He's generously giving them money and upgrading their positions to reward them for their loyalty, dedication, and drive. The third employee was the hot rock that got the tears boiling.
His story sounded so similar to a man I knew in Guatemala, a man who had worked so hard here in the U.S. to establish a life for himself and his family before they had to return to their homeland. On the TV show, the man had worked 20 years for his company. He had such a great attitude. Just like my Guatemalan friend. And his reactions to the boss's news? "Oh, my God...my wife and I...overwhelmed..." So grateful. In a very similar accent to my friend's.
And then the show of emotion. And his desire to say a word in response to his boss to confirm his boss's goodness, his boss's aligning with the company's principles, clearly considered a "good" in both men's minds.
These are the same words, the same type of response that I saw in my friend Luigi and his wife Mayra. Never complaining, even though life is tough. Grateful, truly grateful, for every gift, every gesture of kindness. And always with a desire to turn around and verbally confirm the giver, often times even pronouncing a blessing on him or her.
I miss them.
I only caught the end of the show. Not enough time to get emotionally involved, right? Wrong. The boss sat out on the patio individually with his three really good employees that he discovered. He's generously giving them money and upgrading their positions to reward them for their loyalty, dedication, and drive. The third employee was the hot rock that got the tears boiling.
His story sounded so similar to a man I knew in Guatemala, a man who had worked so hard here in the U.S. to establish a life for himself and his family before they had to return to their homeland. On the TV show, the man had worked 20 years for his company. He had such a great attitude. Just like my Guatemalan friend. And his reactions to the boss's news? "Oh, my God...my wife and I...overwhelmed..." So grateful. In a very similar accent to my friend's.
And then the show of emotion. And his desire to say a word in response to his boss to confirm his boss's goodness, his boss's aligning with the company's principles, clearly considered a "good" in both men's minds.
These are the same words, the same type of response that I saw in my friend Luigi and his wife Mayra. Never complaining, even though life is tough. Grateful, truly grateful, for every gift, every gesture of kindness. And always with a desire to turn around and verbally confirm the giver, often times even pronouncing a blessing on him or her.
I miss them.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Zumba
I took the plunge last week and purchased a 10-session pass to our local Zumba studio. Located a convenient 1 minute, 30 seconds drive away, this location caters to my inexplicable need to never arrive early at anything casual (and thus, through a variety of extenuating circumstances, means I'm routinely late).
Having already picked up the paperwork, I chatted with two other newbies who were filling out the forms as I waited to get my card. They had the great idea of checking out all local Zumba studios and selecting the top one based on price, instructors, comfort, and classes. I felt momentarily guilty for not having that brilliant thought, but quickly dismissed it when I remembered how much I loathe shopping for anything and how much dealing with details taxes me these days. Plus, the convenient location...well, I can't go wrong.
Nearly thirty or forty women bounced along with our smiling instructor. I found myself frequently wearing a smile, too, as we did a little salsa move here (thank you, Arthur Murray) or a little bit of Cuban walks there (another check for the dance classes) to songs like "Livin' La Vida Loca." The hip movements and shoulder shimmies, on the other hand? My smile veiled my laughter at my inability to move that way with any sort of decorum or rhythm. A good reason to have located myself at the back of the class. Still, I have to admit, I enjoyed it thoroughly. Surprisingly, I wasn't terribly tired after the hour-long session.
I found out at my next class from a well-informed participant that the rigorous workouts are with Jorge. I find myself anticipating this next instructor, the one who leaves your calves sore two days later and knows how to keep a dancer's rhythm.
Having already picked up the paperwork, I chatted with two other newbies who were filling out the forms as I waited to get my card. They had the great idea of checking out all local Zumba studios and selecting the top one based on price, instructors, comfort, and classes. I felt momentarily guilty for not having that brilliant thought, but quickly dismissed it when I remembered how much I loathe shopping for anything and how much dealing with details taxes me these days. Plus, the convenient location...well, I can't go wrong.
Nearly thirty or forty women bounced along with our smiling instructor. I found myself frequently wearing a smile, too, as we did a little salsa move here (thank you, Arthur Murray) or a little bit of Cuban walks there (another check for the dance classes) to songs like "Livin' La Vida Loca." The hip movements and shoulder shimmies, on the other hand? My smile veiled my laughter at my inability to move that way with any sort of decorum or rhythm. A good reason to have located myself at the back of the class. Still, I have to admit, I enjoyed it thoroughly. Surprisingly, I wasn't terribly tired after the hour-long session.
I found out at my next class from a well-informed participant that the rigorous workouts are with Jorge. I find myself anticipating this next instructor, the one who leaves your calves sore two days later and knows how to keep a dancer's rhythm.
Inaugural Meal: Good for You
Menu: Goodness Soup, p. 208; Sauteed Garlic Greens, p. 266; Brown Rice Pudding, p. 273; Whole Wheat Dinner Rolls (NOT in the cookbook, but an appeasing gesture to my father)
For my inaugural meal, I really wanted to pick something that wouldn't scare off my tasters too quickly. Goodness Soup seemed like a hearty choice with familiar ingredients: lentils, navy beans, barley (though I'm not used to cooking this), carrots, celery, and more. I substituted plain white wine for the mirin since we didn't locate mirin until the Health Foods Store and Krogers, I think, on a later date. This was my first experience using kombu (type of seaweed). The dried, nearly-black green piece that I cut off soaked up water rather quickly and stretched out to become a soft forest-green ingredient that I minced and added to the soup. According to Clean Food, kombu helps alkalinize food and prevents some of the less glamorous side effects of beans (30). Dad gave this dish a thumbs up.
The side dish looked gorgeous! I used kale for the first time ever, and after cooking, it became a brilliant green that looked almost too good to eat. It flashed through my mind that Eric would love it. Dad would have loved it, too, if I hadn't--ahem--accidentally knocked the sea salt into it and added a little more sodium than we needed.
The Brown Rice Pudding was selected because it reminded me of a delicious bread pudding I had recently eaten. For this reason, Dad nixed it as a favorite dessert of his, but Mom and I enjoyed it. This recipe sneaks tofu and rice milk into the mix to replace dairy and requires the use of kudzu--a thickening agent--instead of cornstarch. While making it, I remembered why it's never a good idea to put a spoon down into the blender while it's mixing, no matter how much it seems the blender's not processing like you want it to...ruined a perfectly good wooden spoon and found a couple of splinters in the dessert to boot. Noted.
For my inaugural meal, I really wanted to pick something that wouldn't scare off my tasters too quickly. Goodness Soup seemed like a hearty choice with familiar ingredients: lentils, navy beans, barley (though I'm not used to cooking this), carrots, celery, and more. I substituted plain white wine for the mirin since we didn't locate mirin until the Health Foods Store and Krogers, I think, on a later date. This was my first experience using kombu (type of seaweed). The dried, nearly-black green piece that I cut off soaked up water rather quickly and stretched out to become a soft forest-green ingredient that I minced and added to the soup. According to Clean Food, kombu helps alkalinize food and prevents some of the less glamorous side effects of beans (30). Dad gave this dish a thumbs up.
The side dish looked gorgeous! I used kale for the first time ever, and after cooking, it became a brilliant green that looked almost too good to eat. It flashed through my mind that Eric would love it. Dad would have loved it, too, if I hadn't--ahem--accidentally knocked the sea salt into it and added a little more sodium than we needed.
The Brown Rice Pudding was selected because it reminded me of a delicious bread pudding I had recently eaten. For this reason, Dad nixed it as a favorite dessert of his, but Mom and I enjoyed it. This recipe sneaks tofu and rice milk into the mix to replace dairy and requires the use of kudzu--a thickening agent--instead of cornstarch. While making it, I remembered why it's never a good idea to put a spoon down into the blender while it's mixing, no matter how much it seems the blender's not processing like you want it to...ruined a perfectly good wooden spoon and found a couple of splinters in the dessert to boot. Noted.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Getting into Clean Food
Mom and I grabbed a cart and paused a minute to get our bearings in this new grocery location for us: Trader Joe’s. Having heard tales of it from others who rave about how great it is, we were a little surprised to find it smaller than expected. However, size did not impact its reputation. Shoppers filled every aisle, finding their familiar goods as we poked along learning the store layout.
While I’m waiting for what’s next, one of the constants I’m focused on maintaining is cooking one new meal a week from Clean Food, a cookbook my mom gave me for Christmas. The premise of the book is to eat whole grains, fruits and vegetables, omitting dairy and meats. The other primary concept is to eat seasonally, paying attention to what’s natural for the time of year since so much of the food available out of season has been treated with pesticides and other unnatural chemicals.
After leafing through the book, I quickly found that my idea of basic ingredients had to change. Instead of my baking basics—brown sugar, vanilla, flour, baking soda, salt—I needed to invest in ingredients like kombu, kudzu, brown rice flour, maple syrup, and sea salt. This pricey restocking of the cabinets has been generously “underwritten” by my mom, who currently has taken responsibility for the initial costs since she bought me the cookbook. Our search for ingredients took us to two more stores beyond Trader Joe’s—Olympia Health food store, where we found the more unique items such as kudzu and kombu; and Dorothy Lane, a fancy typical grocery store. I labeled the ingredients with the date of purchase to see how long these new staples will last.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Reflections
Now that I've been home from Guatemala for a little over two months, I feel I am finally adjusting to the idea of moving onto the next thing. What it is, I know not. It feels a little bit like graduating from college and having the whole world seemingly at my feet. I have the opportunity to discover the next step and dream new dreams--and since I don't have specific ones at the moment, I have been praying that God will shape the desires of my heart to help lead me in the right direction.
I had the opportunity to share about Guatemala with a group in Ohio and a group in Kentucky. I am so thankful for those who have stayed in touch with me throughout this experience, and it is a joy for me to share what I have done and what I have learned with others. Here in this blog, you've seen snapshots of what I've done. What I've learned? Maybe I haven't been quite as transparent about that.
What I've learned (and am still learning) has made me feel exposed. I think I've tried for many years to create a facade for myself that I approve of through what I do. My deeds have given me value. However, these ideas were challenged in Guatemala. I faced a time where suddenly there was no one there to pat me on the back or check off what I had done. After growing up and working in a system with constant feedback, having this stripped away or minimized forced me to find a new way to find value. The head knowledge of knowing our value should come from Christ needed to become real to me. By the time fourth quarter rolled around, I knew that my motivation to teach and keep going had to be to give glory to God.
Exposure is a little terrifying. But I think coming to terms with myself, that I do have many struggles and challenges and growth areas, has been part of the growing process. At least I like to think it is. Learning to believe that Jesus loves me just as I am, that I can never be that perfect person I want to be on my own, and deriving my value from Him instead trying to make a three-ring circus of my life is a lesson I hope to get soon. Really soon.
So now? Learning about patience and waiting and investigating ideas and opportunities even if I don't know or think they are a sure thing.
I had the opportunity to share about Guatemala with a group in Ohio and a group in Kentucky. I am so thankful for those who have stayed in touch with me throughout this experience, and it is a joy for me to share what I have done and what I have learned with others. Here in this blog, you've seen snapshots of what I've done. What I've learned? Maybe I haven't been quite as transparent about that.
What I've learned (and am still learning) has made me feel exposed. I think I've tried for many years to create a facade for myself that I approve of through what I do. My deeds have given me value. However, these ideas were challenged in Guatemala. I faced a time where suddenly there was no one there to pat me on the back or check off what I had done. After growing up and working in a system with constant feedback, having this stripped away or minimized forced me to find a new way to find value. The head knowledge of knowing our value should come from Christ needed to become real to me. By the time fourth quarter rolled around, I knew that my motivation to teach and keep going had to be to give glory to God.
Exposure is a little terrifying. But I think coming to terms with myself, that I do have many struggles and challenges and growth areas, has been part of the growing process. At least I like to think it is. Learning to believe that Jesus loves me just as I am, that I can never be that perfect person I want to be on my own, and deriving my value from Him instead trying to make a three-ring circus of my life is a lesson I hope to get soon. Really soon.
So now? Learning about patience and waiting and investigating ideas and opportunities even if I don't know or think they are a sure thing.
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