My small, dimly lit lectern guides my steps as I reflect on the daily tremblings of a teacher, as well as a student. The duality of it is not so distinct - I can't tell the difference. Aren't we all still learning?
Today I woke up with a bit of a headache, but I was just simply glad to be in the middle of a nice day, with not too much rain. I've begun a few small projects lately in the language arts. In order to improve myself, I've taken to reading some new texts in French and Spanish (One being "Twilight", the uber popular Vampire series, otherwise known as "Crepusculo," the other a simple textbook.) I once was proficient in one of these languages, the former merely a whisper of understanding. I also mused on how to involve myself sooner rather than later in the cultural vida of Hong Kong's enthusiastic heartbeat. It can be so easy to accept invites to soirees, barbeques, birthday functions, holidays, and dinners with friends, but what about attending plays, reading books, discovering visual or performance masterpieces? Hence, I pre-registered for the Fine Art Asia Fair on October 3rd today, complimentary. How marvellous! It makes me feel refreshed already.
In this city who never slows down for a hot minute, it is undeniably necessary to rest. She is a monster, this Hong Kong, relishing the collective mix of people all after their place in this mess - off to work, off to school, off to shop (haha)...Isn't that the truth? She merely laughs at us as we trample over each other to make it to the next hectic destination. These days, I practically run down the sidewalks, to keep up with the bobbing umbrellas, tear-stained streets from acid rainfall, and slippery pedestrians trying to go here or there.
And so today, I rest. Especially after my brief window of calm when I was with my loving, exuberant, centered, and never dull family in California - I feel grounded. In the knowledge of all that is true and sacred - real relationships - I know I can slow down to enjoy life and all God has to offer. So cheers to all of you who make me smile - you're such a blessing: you all know who you are!
It was raining incessantly when I stepped outside of my building Wednesday morning. Scratch that -- Did I say it was raining incessantly, I meant it was drizzling. Drizzling, yes. I was on my way to the Kowloon island where I will be teaching in a few weeks at a Montessori school. One foot in front of the other, I found my way through the streets and small puddles everywhere. Splish, splash. Little droplets of water fell on my head, and more than normal. In Hong Kong, the air conditioning vents all have leftover residue falling into your hair, and more unfortunately, in your eye at times. Yuck. Wednesday, it wasn't just A/C coolant, but acid rain. Oh joy. The worst of it was the professional attire I chose for the outing. I was performing a trial lesson plan in front of the kids and the school principal, so I chose a blue silk dress, warm grey tights and a blazer. The flimsy blazer material was simply not enough, and the black scarf I finished off the look with couldn't keep my neck from feeling the goosebumps underneath my clothes. But - wait. The best part about the walk in that day's rain was the crossing from outdoor Sheung Wan (My home neighborhood) to the metro. It is a five minute walk to the MTR rail station and I kept trying to quicken my steps. The puddles were not as much of a distraction as the people and their umbrellas. The streets are narrow, and the sidewalks even narrower. Despite the small amount of drizzle, everyone seemed to be scared of the rain. And then, the entrance to the metro loomed in front of me and there was a large outcropping of these pink, green, blue, black, polka dotted umbrellas. It was as if there was one large misshapen tent in front of me in an unusual sequence of color. As soon as people would march up the steps to get out of the metro underground into Sheung Wan, another umbrella would burst open and poke its way out into the fresh air. I thought I was going to find my eyeball rolling around on the ground at any moment. I kept hearing that line from A Christmas Story about the dangerous BB gun the kid keeps messing with: "You're going to poke someone's eye out." Um yes. Mine. And so, that is how I survived with my face still intact. Eyes in head. Check. Hair damp. Check. Frozen Nose. Check. Blue lips. Check. I took a ferry ride across the harbor and braved the frigid ice path across the water. Perhaps turtlenecks and five scarves per day are in order. We learn our lessons hard. The path from arrival at Hong Hum Pier was a quick jaunt to Whanpoa Garden, where the principal observed me and gave the final confirmation that I can begin teaching her kindergarten class in January. I'm quite excited because although the Learning Centre has been a pleasure to work with, the management's organization skills have been left wanting. Since I was on a three-month probation, I have leave to start work as a teacher at the new school and remain teaching some smaller classrooms on Saturday. I'm looking forward to the change, but aware that I will probably have many days of exhaustion ahead of me. In the meantime, I am quite excited about Christmas and New Year's in Hong Kong. I recently came across a church I enjoy, and now have a place to celebrate the birth of Christ for service and carols. Ah, what splendor! I love being able to sing and praise, as well as discuss the meaning of giving and love. Christmas is such a special time, and although I'll be away from so many I love, I am in the hope that the distance could not separate us from how much affection there is and will always remain between us.
Today I had my first skype chat with a California friend today, and I must say I'm so grateful for this technology. Life's little quirks makes it so that we don't always get to be near the ones we care for, but I call it a quirk simply because I know I will be with all the ones I adore soon. In the grand scheme of things, my trip to Hong Kong is a hiccup. I still plan on coming home for my dear friend Liz's wedding in February, and to be in California's great sunshine. I miss so many at home: my sisters Annette, Suzy, Mom, Dad, my new brother-in-laws, Sean and Austin, Liz (greeban), Liz (bell), Janie Jane, Rachel, Nikki (I always miss Nikki so even though she's not in California), Andrew, my favorite co-worker from JT's, my cousins, Ray, Johnny, Noel, my grandparents, Oma and Omi, my adopted grandparents, and Tante Vonny, Oom Frans, my aunts and uncles Franny, Bernard, cousins Mea, Frank, my tennis partners, Kevin, Aaron, Brandon, Brett, so many I worked with for the last few months in California, and my Newport Beach friends... And so I wish all of you a very merry Christmas.
It has been a long time coming. For all of you who are my readers, I'm sorry it has been so long, but I simply am exhausted from coming home. Ever since my plane landed in Orange Country from London, exactly a month ago today, I've been swimming in the wonder of Europe, even though I'm not anywhere but here in the United States. It is difficult to describe how one can be so changed from just a few days out of their life, but time is another dimension, right? Perhaps not measured in hours, but measured by quality. My quality of life in England, France, Netherlands, Deutschland, and Italia was so drastically different and merveilleux (wonderful) that it has in fact, affected every single day I have been "home"! C'est increyable! My time has been in some ways, very, very morose, because despite being so happy that I had the opportunity to see and do so many activities, and absorb special experiences, I cannot seem to put as much motivation together for my daily responsibilities at work and my downtime is spent soothing my broken heart. Because...my heart aches to be in a country I don't understand, where each moment I'm learning and feeling and doing something that inspires each part of myself. My creativity in some ways is just pouring out of me because of how discontented I am, and yet I'm also so deliriously happy because I have these moments which speak to me each day about how lucky I am to be alive. I cannot even begin to place this into words that make the kind of sense I want. I know these sentences are fragmented and displaced. Yet I cannot help myself. I am drowning. And happy. And sad.
Why does it seem that when you have all this time on your hands to choose how your day is going to go, it slips through your fingers. However, when you allow yourself to make plans, you often go from place to place as opportunities arise -- and sometimes are let down by the prospect of turning out more exciting than they are in actuality?
Traditional existentialists dressed in black and "mourned" the life they were shrouded in. Wondering if these societal constraints were a mere construct of a life imposed, never chosen. The existentialist chooses her way to live each day. Consequently, those most spontaneous things should be the best part of life right? I agree! Hence, I am not much of a planner these days. I enjoy the idea of waking up wondering what is going to happen next.
Reminds me of those "Choose Your Own Adventure" books. Rememeber those? (woops. side note)
I hate the anticipation of a planned event that turns out the less exciting. A highly awaited kiss, a promotion at that job you slave over, the vacation that gets rained out, a stolen suitcase, a friend that gets married (then divorced), and the unhappiness that often follows when a party that was supposed to be fabulous is a sweaty soiree. (Sad, sad day when the sweaty soiree happens. Haha) In any case, I hope that not planning my vacation in its entirety, when I leave for London in two weeks will actually improve my chances of pure enjoyment. PURA VIDA.
It is strange to consider that life is so short, when viewed in the context of all the unexpected events that occur around you. I've recently discovered a co-worker I like very much has been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. He's a young, athletic, and healthy man over 30 with two children, a good job, and a wife. (I've spent some time with both of them volunteering in Costa Mesa.) You would never know to look at him, but he had an attack of the central nervous system and it appears that the doctor diagnosed his health in order that he could come back to work full-time. However, he probably has the following diagnosis, which means it can come back at any time, even if it isn't audacious enough to show symptoms right now. (All the other possible MS diagnoses are worse than the below.)
Relapsing-Remitting MS People with this type of MS experience clearly defined attacks of worsening neurologic function. These attacks—which are called relapses, flare-ups, or exacerbations —are followed by partial or complete recovery periods (remissions), during which no disease progression occurs. Approximately 85% of people are initially diagnosed with relapsing-remitting MS.
Why does this happen? Could be genetic. Could be linked to lots of things. According to the Multiple Sclerosis Society, this is thought to be an autoimmune disease. Our body's own immune system attacks the tissue surrounding the nerve fibers in the central nervous system. This myelin attacked forms scar tissue (sclerosis), which distorts nerve impulses traveling to/from the brain. Apparently, this forms several different symptions. In the case of my friend, he went blind in one of his eyes. Fortunately, his eye restored 90-95% of its sight in the last month, and he has come back to work another 40-hour work week, as before. It is odd to think how the symptoms vary so dramatically for those diagnosed. Apparently, MS is diagnosed, as in other autoimmune diseases, significantly more often(at least 2-3 times) in women than men. The body's "abnormal" response, to attack our central nervous system doesn't even have a specific reason! At least epidimiologists and researchers haven't discovered it yet.
Why? Oh, why. It isn't just my friend. It is over 2 million people in the world diagnosed with this disease alone, and besides disease, there are so many other things in this world that are just unjust. Why does this happen to a good man? Why does this happen to any of us? I've started to follow blogs in Saudi Arabia, lately, in a recent discovery in my ongoing obsession about the international opression of peoples, especially women. These men and women are speaking up about how they feel about the dress standards, the options for democracy, cultural standards, religion and how it applies to the politics. Reading about it (and I've only just begun) opens my eyes to what the world is really like. And makes me wonder just how selfish we really are (and probably unaware, as well)..because we are so concerned with our own insignificant lives. Not to say that each individual isn't truly significant in her own way, but that in the scope of things, all are significant as a whole, and we can be significant if we care enough to do what we can as an individual for the whole. Even being aware, makes us less unaware, right? And not so oblivious and naive. At least - this is where I'm going to start.
Saudi Blogs: http://saudistepfordwife.blogspot.com/ http://saudijeans.org/
Focus in life: being a Christian, submersion into the blink of the depth of a wondrous conversation, existentialism, understanding how nihilism could awaken new feelings about each day (is it possible?), liberty, film and its blueprint in revealing emotions and truth, reading literature from the intelligensia, learning new languages, athleticism in review of our body's ability to give energy and optimism, music, music, music, writing in politics, culture, the study of thought, and good, clean fun.
