differences

This entry is about things that are weird different about my new environment. I know I should never use that word "weird" when describing things from another culture that is not my own, so that's why I crossed it out and wrote different. Because it's really, really different.

-Did you know if you wear pants whilst pregnant, your baby cannot breath?

-Did you know if you wear a helmet as a child, your head will not grow to a normal size, thus making your brain smaller and at a lower functioning capability?

-Did you know that if you have a mole on your face that grows hair, you are very lucky? And the longer you let that hair grow (like 3 inches or so) the luckier you are?

-Did you know that the more you sweat, the more weight you lose? So when spinning in a room full of 50 people, you should never turn on the A/C or drink water, because then you won't get skinny.

-Did you know that wearing a backpack on your back will actually make you shorter?

-Did you know there are 900,000 pages in the chapter books my kids read? Or at least, that's what page they are on according to their reading log.

-Did you know that the exhaust from cars and buses cannot reach your lungs if you wear a thin piece of cloth over your face? (But probably the smoke from the cigarettes you smoke does, but maybe it doesn't if you're lucky... like if you have a hairy mole on your face)

-Did you know you can buy makeup, body wash, and soap that can make your skin whiter?

-Did you know that if you wear a helmet as thick as a plastic cereal bowl that won't fit over your entire head but rather sits on top like a crown, you are following the helmet law? Or if you just wear any type of head covering, like a leaf hat, you are still not breaking the helmet law?

-Did you know that even though there is a helmet law, there are no speed limits? And many intersections do not have lights? And when turning on to a busy street, it is the responsibility of the other drivers to yield, not yours?

All these things, though surprising to hear at first, make me smile at how much more you can learn everyday just from being around different people. It has started to make me wonder what things are weird different about my culture. A short list I've started includes the following...

-Did you know that if you spill a hot beverage on yourself, you can win a lot of money because no one told you that your hot beverage would be that hot?

-Did you know that if your sports team doesn't win (or does win!), it gives you the right to punch people in the face?

-Did you know there is one day a year where it is okay to over-indulge in our love of consumerism to the point of trampling one another to purchase our desires at a discounted price?

-Did you know if your tooth falls out, you actually deserve some money? From a fairy, no less :)

These are some weird different things about my culture that have been shared with me. It's all true, but I know there are many more. I would love to hear what you all think (insert not-so-tactful attempt at getting readers to participate in blog experience).

Updates soon. Report cards are due this week. Must prioritize (says the teacher that just wrote this while her students were at P.E.).

International Love

Today, I was a vegetarian from the United States, ordering two turkeys from incredibly kind Vietnamese restaurant employees in Saigon, in order to celebrate a North American holiday with my friends from Canada, the U.S., Australia, Indonesia, and Honduras.

I love this international life.

I love that each day I am confronted with challenges: challenges with communication, challenges with transportation, challenges with cultural expectations. It's difficult at times. Sometimes it can bring me to the edge of tears. But almost immediately after the frustrations of two people trying to understand one another ends, either a friendship is formed or, if nothing else, a hilarious story has come from these unanticipated interactions.

The woman I ordered those turkeys from? After 30 minutes of trying to find a place to park my bicycle (what did I tell you about this bike? It's the smallest, least obtrusive means of transportation yet I can never find anywhere suitable to put it without upsetting someone or breaking some unwritten rule), exchanging information about what was needed, and putting down the deposit, she asked if she could keep my phone number so I could help her practice English. I agreed -- though I thought her English was lovely -- but only in exchange for Vietnamese lessons :)

DemocraZy

Remember those quiet kids I told you about? Well, they were quite loud on Wednesday. I attempted to quickly tell them about the election happening in the U.S. on that day but how can you "quickly" tell kids who live in a communist country about an election? They didn't even know what that meant! Their parents never voted, their country never elected an official, they had never witnessed a campaign for candidacy. So, we ended up using an entire 40 minutes period to talk about this historical day in the U.S. and what it meant to me and so many others around the world.

We talked about "red" states and "blue" states, we discussed voting patterns, we compared ideals of democrats and republicans, and we watched the results change as time continued to pass. We looked into campaign platforms, we researched past presidents, we examined the number of electoral votes in various states, and we watched as the popular vote shifted from Romney to Obama. Since August, I have never seen my students get more excited about anything else we have covered. I seriously got goosebumps from the discussions we had. It's amazing how nine-year-olds who grew up in a communist country, can still have more insight than some adults who know only democracy.

I call this phenomenon of people completely taking for granted their rights as United Statesians (term from Katie Y N in Guatemala; you can't call yourself an American in Guatemala since that could mean you are from Central, South, or North) and disrespecting their leaders, their neighbors, and their self by not educating themselves, "Democrazy." Maybe it's because I was so far removed from this particular election having no access to North American media in Vietnam, or maybe its because I am able to witness first hand how a communist country runs and operates (and finding its really not too different) but hearing the reactions of my fellow countrymen to this election was incredibly disappointing. Do we really still think that one man is in charge of our whole country? Do we really still think that our personal religious or spiritual views should become laws for all to abide by? Do we really still think that there is only two ways of thinking, liberal or republican? Do we really still think that once who we want to win does not win, that giving up on all hope is beneficial to anyone?

I really dislike a lot of things about facebook (and appreciate many things about it as well) and one of those things is how openly and boldly people complain about the world around them. I read one update that said, "I feel sorry for my childrens' futures," implying that now that Obama is president, this persons children are no longer going to have a good future. As a teacher, I must tell you, parents are the number one determiner of a child's future. It has little to do with who is president, and as much as I hate to admit it, it has little to do with who their teacher is. The secret to a child's success lies in their parents. So in insinuating that the Obama administration is what will hinder your child's success, you are simply adding to the blame and hate that United Statesians are so openly expressing. Even my students were confused by this utter lack of respect on what our country was indeed founded on (no, not Christianity or white, male supremacy) democratic participation. Here is what they had to say about it all:

1. Why would someone not vote?!
2. Why are all the states in the middle red and the ones on the sides are blue?
3. Can I vote if I move to the U.S.?!
4. What if someone doesn't want to vote for either person?

All these questions had me searching for answers and wondering what it will take for my country to be united once more. What will it take for us to give up bipartisan elections, to consider the greater good, to focus our passion on making change in our own community rather than using it to separate ourselves. All I know is, I have become even more thankful that my opinions can even be expressed through my rights, something my students may never have the chance to experience.

I challenge you all today to instead of being reactive to be proactive. The next thing you feel like complaining about? Change it. I tried this idea at school and look where it took us. My quiet, hard-working Vietnamese students had an entire period to be excited about a form of government. Instead of complaining about my students lack of participation, I need to give them reasons to participate. And who knew talking about democracy could do just that :)

I do need to devote a paragraph to my homestate before I leave you. Washington State voted on some heavy stuff this election. Unfortunately, my Kansas driver's license prevented me from getting to vote in Washington (and Kansas' ballot was intensely boring) but my fellow Washingtonians showed up in large numbers to vote in favor of marriage equality and public charter schools. Washington was one of only nine states without charter schools and this was a long time coming. If you're unfamiliar with charter schools, I suggest you find a way to watch the documentary, Waiting for "Superman." It explains these alternative schools and how they are still publicly funded but have a more focused curriculum and more accountability in all areas. I am hoping that with this passed law, I can someday teach in a charter school in my home state and serve the students of Washington just as my teachers did for me. And all I will say about marriage equality is anytime a nation moves in a direction that allows all its citizens the same rights, progress is being made. Regardless of what you believe, this too has been a long time coming and I look forward to the day when the next generation shakes their heads in disbelief that our nation could still possess legal prejudices in the 21st century.

One more point of reflection. I have had a few people question my loyalty to the United States in my life choices in living abroad but I have to say, I believe I have learned more about my country in the three years I've left it than most have in the three years they have lived in it. I don't think there is anything more American than seeing the rest of the world, learning about other cultures, and still choosing to come back home.

“Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends.” – Maya Angelou

Did I mention?

Did I mention that I teach kids stuff? Or, rather, I try to teach kids stuff? My dear friend TD helped me realize that I don't think I've said anything about my students yet which insane because I'm in love with them. We are almost half-way through second quarter (WHAT?!) so let me tell you a little about 4D.

First week of school silly faces

I teach only 13 students. You can clear your eyes and pinch yourself all you want but you read that correctly; thirteen kids. I never thought having 22 in Guatemala was a lot considering there are still many states in the U.S. where class sizes exceed 30 students, but now when I think back to having 22 English language learners in one room, I laugh at how little we were actually able to cover. With thirteen kids, you can have three or four small math groups, only 5 different reading levels, enough space to sit on the carpet, reading corner, or desks, and a small enough group that its very noticeable when someone is missing. With thirteen kids, I feel like I can truly differentiate instruction in all subject areas and delve deeper into the content without interruption. With thirteen kids, I am able to know my students more fully; their learning styles, what makes them uncomfortable, areas in which they need more practice, and their strengths that can contribute to the classroom as a whole. With thirteen kids, we can respect one another's ideas, speak without having to shout, listen instead of just hear, and work with one another everyday.

I love it. But I didn't at first.

On the first day of school, I walked in my classroom with what felt like a myriad of activities to fill the first day. A classroom puzzle, name game, photos to share, "All About Me" questionnaires, writing samples, spelling inventories, classroom expectations, and many other community building opportunities. I love to overplan for the first few days so the activities can be sprawled out and kids can kind of ease their way into my classroom instead of having a million things thrown at them at once. Except this year, I didn't over plan. I planned just enough. Yes, we literally got through all of those activities in one day. You may be asking, "how is that even possible?"

Well, here's my explanation: my kids don't talk. They don't!

You might think this is every teacher's dream, having a small class of quiet students. But let me tell you, it's actually been a really hard adjustment for me. I'm used to having to constantly ask my students to stop shouting out the answers, stop talking to your neighbors, stop moving on ahead of the class, etc. And, in Guatemala, it used to drive my bonkers. Seriously, the most common phrase I used with my kids was, "You guys are making me crazy," to which my kids would respond, "You already are crazy!" Well played.

Playing with owl pellets? I love fourth grade :)

But there is something to be said about a classroom of kids versus a classroom of participants. Somedays its like pulling teeth to get them to share their opinions, to discuss things with a partner, to look around the classroom for a possible answer. One of the most exciting things for me in teaching is the conversations that can be had with these young minds. And too often when I am teaching, no matter how silly and goofy I try to be, they just sit there.

You may still be wondering why I claimed to love these children that I just described but as mentioned in the first paragraph, we recently had parent-teacher conferences that helped me learn a lot more about my 13 dudes and why they are the way they are. In Vietnamese public schools, all learning is rote memorization. All instruction is lecture-based. All students learn independently. There is no poster-making, no differentiated reading groups, no cooperative learning. It's every man kid for himself out there. And that's how these kids (and these parents) are taught. Many of my kids have been going to our school since they were in first grade so they are used to how North Americans teach. But almost all of them go to separate schools on the weekends to learn other languages, are tutored in English for hours each night, go to extra math classes for "drilling" practice, and stay up until upwards of 11pm doing additional (like outside of the assigned homework!) work. That is 2 hours after I go to bed! Frankly, these kids are overworked. They are terrified to make mistakes. And they are simply unsure how to act in my classroom.

Some students reading their published narratives while they act it out! So fun!

So this is where my challenge for the year comes in. My goal is to help my students shift their mindsets away from thinking that getting straight A's is the only way they can be successful. I want to teach them what I wish a teacher could have explained to me; that learning is a process, a SUPER COOL process, that should be enjoyed and appreciated. I want them to know they are free to be themselves in 4D, that even if their parents think that they are not good enough (I can't count how many of the parents told me this), that I think they are more than enough. That they are valued, respected, and loved. This is my style and I'm not giving up on it yet, despite having parents tell me I need to punish their kids more and that if they are being lazy I can call them and they will beat them (yeah, like I'd ever call them now-- yikes!). I think its starting to work as the students in 4D are beginning to laugh at my jokes, cheer for one another when they are successful, and sometimes they even get excited with I "pick their stick" out of a jar and they have to share their work with the class.

There was one part of parent-teacher conferences I found refreshing and that was the number of parents who told me their students LOVE school (who knew?!). Three parents told me their kids complain every weekend about not being at AIS (that's my school's acronym, btw (and "btw" is an acronym for "by the way," btw) it stands for American International School... man, I've done a terrible job telling you about all this!). One mother told me that her son was completely miserable during the whole October vacation and kept asking when he could come back to my class (I was made aware of his boredom through his constant posts on Edmodo (facebook for school... seriously, if you're a teacher, Check. It. Out!) that said things like "i hate this vacaton"). Though I wish I could have felt their sentiments and also hated my week long vacation on the beach in Thailand, it did make me smile to know that they are at least enjoying themselves at school, even if they have a hard time expressing themselves.

I'm going to make sure I write more about the things we actually do in 4D as my dear TD also reminded me how important and valuable it is to have things written down. I'll end it here and keep you posted on this goal of ours.

Bringing out the silly in 4D on Halloween. Yes, I was a grandma. And don't worry, that is a shirt stuffed under my shirt, though the candy and other sweets I consumed on that day could have similar results.

p.s. you can always click on pictures to make them larger, btw (remember what that stands for?)

Sending my love!

Waiting

Yesterday, I heard from my dear Makenzie in Guatemala. She is one I have always respected for a number of reasons but this time especially it was for her constant investment in current events and incredible skill in keeping in touch with others. Unfortunately this time, she contacted me with some pretty awful news. I'm trying to make my brain stop thinking about it so I am going to copy and paste an email I wrote to some coworkers today so I don't have to type out what I'm thinking. I wrote this to my friends who are currently teaching with me here in Vietnam but all taught in Guatemala at one point as well. If you are a Guate friend reading this, please know I am sending all my love to you right now. All of it...

"Amigos,

I’m having a hard time with some recent news about our Guatemala. Here is an article from the Prensa Libre about one of my former students’ parents: http://www.prensalibre.com/noticias/justicia/Exesposa-Rubio-delata-muertes_0_801519862.html

Apparently, the parents were divorced in 2010, but since then, the father has murdered nine of his ex-wives lovers, friends, or acquaintances. He was found with 350kilos of cocaine in his helicopter a few years back and even served jail time in the U.S. in the early 90s. Why was he never jailed for the cocaine? Why was he out roaming the streets? Because it’s Guatemala. I guess he put a GPS in her car and was literally tracking down where she went and then going to the same place to kill whomever she was with. The mom was currently seeing the Italian Ambassador in Guatemala and when the dad was about to come after him, the mom took the kids and fled the country. No one at Inter has seen or heard from them since. I think we can assume they are safe, as they are able to interview for the Prensa Libre, but it is so scary for me to think that this dad is still on the run while his kids are M.I.A.

I’m thinking back to how I reacted to this student. Frankly, he was terrible in my class. Cheated on tests, stole from classmates, mocked others, never did his work or homework. But his dad was a drug lord, gang member, and was following around his mom killing all her lovers. How could I have thought that doing his homework was that important? I’m sure he never saw his parents and when he did he was scared out of his mind. Maybe he had no idea, which would be ideal, but he obviously knows now. I’m doing a lot of reflecting today on what these kids have to go through. Some people may think these kids are privileged because their families come from money. But I’m thinking those kids that run around freely jumping in Lake Atitlan while they eat Tortrix from the tienditas could possibly be having a better childhood than those whose parents are so rich and crazy, they have no love for anyone else, not even their children.

Wow, sorry to send such a heavy email at school! I’m on my lunch break researching more and I just can’t get this out of my head. I’m sending positive vibes to Guatemala today, and thinking of all of you who know the heartache of this place as well.

Abrazos a todos,

Hannah"

I got some responses from this emotional email that were really helpful. Colin (I'm not sure I explained that Colin was my wonderful boss from Guatemala (the first year, obviously) who offered me the job here in Vietnam this spring) said that perhaps teachers were the only consistant adults in this student's life. Maybe we were the only ones who had expectations of him. It's possible that the routines we had at school were the only ones he had all day. And that is important and means something. Friend Scott, a former Americano teacher, reminded me to enjoy the time I have with the kids I'm working with now, instead of dwelling on what I could or couldn't have done. Touché.

None of that really matters now though. All I can really do is wait. Wait until we hear for certain that this family is safe. Wait until we learn that the father has been caught and arrested (let's hope). 

Tomorrow is Dia de los Muertos in Guatemala so I will be remembering all those Guatemaltecos who have lost their lives to violence. I also plan to reach out to my family and friends there as this disheartening news has made me long for them even more than ever. 

Thailandia

Warning: the majority of this post is about... food. Pictures of food. Stories about food. Love letters to food. I hope you will not think of me differently upon reading about the enormously inappropriate amounts of calories I took in during my one week stay in Thailand. But if you do, I guess I'll just save a knuckle sandwich for you :)

Last week commenced our very first "vacation" of the school year. The word "vacation" deserves quotation marks mostly because I already live in a super cool foreign country so to take a "vacation" from my "vacation" lifestyle is just kind of silly. Anyway, my dear roommate Kristi, our coworker Victoria, and myself decided to add another stamp to our passports and head west to the land of curry, Buddhism, limestone, and diversity: Thailand.

My bookmark for the week :)

Tuk-tuk transport

Now, I'm not entirely sure how to tell you about the week without making a boring, "then we did this, next we did that, later we went here..." kind of post. So, if you get bored, just scroll down and look at the pictures of food, Buddha, food, monkeys, food, and that tuk-tuk to your left. Our first stop? Bangkok. At first glance, Bangkok is huge, dirty, booming, colorful, and hot. Then, once you start exploring, you find that Bangkok is actually enormous, filthy, heavily populated, vibrant, and sweltering. But I still think I fell in love with the place. Phad thai was sold on the street for $1, tuk-tuks were the size of a mini-cooper, pictures of the royal family were displayed all over the city, ancient temples lined the streets and acted as reminders of S.E. Asia's extensive history, diversity was found in its purest form as Thai were dressed in tradition clothing, western wear, and head coverings, and transportation exceeded most city options: boat, taxi, train, light-rail, bus, tuk-tuk, bicycle, and peds. We spent some quality tourist time finding the great Reclining Buddha, visiting the largest market in all of Asia, shopping on the famous Khoa San Road, sipping coconut juice, and taking a vegetarian Thai cooking class. This was definitely the highlight of Bangkok and something I would have never normally done had it not been for the influence of my roommate, Chef Kristi. The class was about $35 and included a trip to a market, instructions in cooking eight meals, a recipe books, dancing lessons, and new friends. We ended up buying spices, curries, tea, and another cookbook but all-in-all, it was absolutely worth the money. So if you are starting to take notes on "things that entice you to visit," please add the following: I will cook delicious Thai food for you if you come. 

Seems like most countries respect their leaders... hm... different. I did have a hilarious conversation with our taxi driver about Obama and Romney. The driver said he watched the TV and all they did was, "talk and talk and talk but I want they to dance!" Yes, little Thai taxi driver, I agree. The presidency should absolutely be determined by a dance-off.

Becoming a ghost next to the world's biggest buddha

This is a real thing: stuffed tofu with rice, green curry, eggplant... I die.

Chef Hannah to the rescue! 

This is Phad Thai and peanut sauce my roommate and I MADE!

Spring roll spread

Papaya salad... I didn't make it but I did eat it

Pumpkin hummus... you read right!

Possibly the most delicious thing in Thailand: black sticky rice with coconut milk, mangoes, and bananas... NOM!

Kristi with her coconut ice cream :)

After a few days of playing in a new city and enjoying our sweet hostel with the kindest of Thai ladies, we bought a bus ticket and made our way south. Night buses are an incredible thing. You get where you want to go without wasting any additional time, you (hopefully) sleep through the discomfort, you spend a fraction of what you would with an airline ticket, and you pay one less night for lodging. And Thai night buses are the best I've seen: fully reclining seats, blankets provided, flat screen TVs, snacks and water bottles, clean bathrooms, and a communal dinner at a rest stop at midnight. Super classy and under $30 for a 12 hour bus ride. I'll take it!

ooooh hai!

Twelve hours later, we loaded off the bus, taxied to a pier, and sailed our way to the islands. It was here that we spent our days hiking, rock climbing, sleeping in bungalows, eating hilariously inexpensive food, swimming in the saltwater, "borrowing" the pool at a neighboring hotel, reading, slack-lining (finally found one!), and meeting fun people. It was a beautiful, relaxing, calming experience that I wish everyone could know. I am tempted to go back to Railay beach for every vacation I have but can't imagine how many other amazing places this region has to offer. If my first trip was this good, and I had no idea what we were doing half the time, the next ones are bound to be even more awe-inspiring.

beautiful limestone

This is a fun story. These gentlemen asked if they could sit at my table while I was eating that papaya salad seen earlier and we ended up going on a viewpoint and laguna hike together. They were very impressed the I knew that where they were from, Ottawa, was the capital of Canada. Turns out they went to high school with my dear friend and coworker from Guatemala, Camille! It's a small world after all :)

Temporary roommate Kevin climbing after teaching me to do that same

I have to tell you a specific story, though. And this story may require that I stand a little taller, like maybe on a soapbox. Sorry in advance. On my daily walk to "pick up" Kristi and Victoria at their hotel (I stayed with friends Alex and Kevin in our $12 a night bungalow instead of a $50 a night resort), I frequently walked past an Indian restaurant owned by an American couple. I was intrigued by their "water bottle refill station" they had advertised and became a regular during the week, filling my bottle for 10 baht ($.30), discussing the joys of traveling, and chatting with their super cute kid. One day during a refill, Alex asked how they disposed of their trash on this tiny island. They mentioned that they composted what was compostable, recycled what was recycled in that area, and buried the rest. Impressed by their assumed desire to create less waste with the water bottle refill station, I mentioned the concept of a bottle brick to them (if you are unfamiliar with "bottle bricks," you haven't read my blog and have a lot of reading to do in order to find out, hehe). They sounded interested so naturally I got really excited.

To my dismay, my excitement was short-lived. I returned to the restaurant the next day with information, contacts, and a naive hope for a bottle brick project in an island town in the south of Thailand. I proudly reexplained the concept to the couple and offered email addresses of people who may be able to provide resources and supports for a potential project. But I was met with an ugly attitude that disappointed me beyond belief, "It sounds like a great idea, but honestly, Thai people just don't care about the garbage they make." 

Pssh, thanks buddy, clearly you don't either.

As a privileged, educated American starting a business on a small Thai island (and frankly, taking business away from Thai people and exploiting the tourist dollar in a country that is not yours), is it not your DUTY to improve the community in which you live? I asked this question to Allison in one of our, "man, society is depressing worldwide" conversations, and she brought up the brilliant point that everyone, everywhere should want to improve their community, regardless of where you come from and what the current stance is of the community members on any given issue. I found myself so incredibly let down that I nearly cried right there in front of this guy. Why should Thai people care about the garbage they make? Where would they have received any education about conservation and waste management? When have they ever witnessed the repercussions of over-consumption of resources? If someone has no background knowledge or contextual awareness of their actions, of course they won't care! That is where your job comes in, Mister educated-white-man-with-an-Indian-restaurant-on-a-tiny-island-in-Thailand. You can't go on thinking that what goes on on your own property is all that's important. If you want a healthy world for your young and super cute kid to grow up in, then take the initiative. Put in the time. Do your part.

Change can start with one person. I'm still young enough to believe this and don't plan on letting some a-hole (sorry, I'm clearly still disappointed!) American take that away. Now, the next step for me is 1. learning how to be brave enough to actually say these things to the people who anger me instead of writing home about it and 2. contacting environmental groups here in Vietnam about bottle bricks. I wish I could fly Jaron and Aubrey out here right now and we could start our own organization of people who really do care about conservation and education but hopefully the right person will be inspired and something can be changed.

Because if not now, then when? If not you, then who?

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Okay, that was me climbing down off my soapbox that somehow became more of a tower than a box. Not apologizing this time as many people have told me I do that too much. So, sorry for not being sorry. Oh, ooops, there it is again. The rest of the trip was equally spectacular except for one little thing: Kristi got an ameba! We think it was maybe from her salad not being cleaned well enough or perhaps being cleaned too well and not dried, but one way or another that little dude made his way in her stomach and just took over. She had a fever, diarrhea (don't worry, Kristi likes discussing poop too), and intense body aches for three day. Luckily, I did learn some things from my amazing nurse of a mother and was able to track down electrolyte packs, vitamin C enriched liquids, and soft foods for my poor sick roomie. I played bad cop and forced her to drink her fluids in increments, even when all she wanted to do was sleep. This only lasted long enough for Kristi to make it back to Vietnam and go straight to the doctor. They found that her stomach was intensely inflamed, blood had managed to get in her stool, and there was indeed a little squirmy guy living in her insides. Kristi is on her way to killing those demon bugs with twenty day anti-parasitic pill treatment. She stayed home and slept for two days and is finally feeling better; thank goodness!

Okay, I think that's all I've got for you. I won't try to sit here and think of a clever way to end this post. You can stop reading now :)

The view from the borrowed pool at the fancy hotel... this is real life!

if you've just joined us...

... I'm trying to start again. The last four entries are what I've written in the last two weeks. That's decent pacing, I think. Scroll down to "Giving it another go" if you'd like to start at square one.

:)

Mountain Biker

As previously mentioned, this new bicycle has been providing enough entertainment for an entire blog. So, prepare yourself for some bike entries.

Ferry transport! 

This Sunday, I went for the “Sunday Ride” with a bike company in District 7 called Saigon Cycles. I’d planned on going on this ride weeks ago but hadn’t worked up the courage to show up solo until I realized that I couldn’t convince anyone to go with me so I’d better suck it up J I left my apartment at 5:30am, rode the 8K from my house to district 7, and met up with the group of cyclists. In our group, we had three Dutchmen, two Aussies, two Kiwis, and three Americans; already awesome. We departed for the ride as the rain began to fall and completely soak all of our belongings. We rode out of the city until we stopped for a quick noodle soup meal and dry-off. Not long after we hit the road again, we came across a river. How does one get across a river with a bike? A “ferry.” This ferry also happened to be the form of transportation for about 75 Vietnamese school children (yes, Vietnamese kids go to school at 7am on Sundays). The boat ride only last about 5 minutes and we were on our way again…

Where we went next was the Vietnam I have been longing to find. The Vietnam where people work in the rice paddies wearing leaf hats. The Vietnam where children come running out of their houses to say hello to the white people riding by. The Vietnam where your thoughts are not interrupted by the sounds of motorbikes and horns, and your breath is taken away by beauty rather than exhaust. The Vietnam where you have to slow down (to concentrate on not falling in the mud, yes, but also) just to look at everything around you. Where you feel so happy you could SHOUT! Where you don’t care how much mud is being caked all over you and your belongings. Where you stop worrying about, well, everything. I was deeply moved by this ride and hope it is only the beginning of my exploration.

The crew in the rice paddies

what are you talking about? i'm not tired! ;)

Now, it wasn’t all happy-go-lucky. There is a slight chance that I was maybe the slowest rider out there, perhaps. I thought at first I was doing fine until I realized people take turns “bringing up the rear.” Rear = me. But, everyone seemed pretty surprised when I admitted this was my first ride… ever. I haven’t owned a bike since 4^th grade and certainly had never ridden it more than to a neighbor’s house. Another gentlemen echoed that, “there are two ways to ride a bike: riding it fast, or looking good… so you’ve got one of them covered!” Most women may have taken this as a compliment, but of course my competitive nature was extremely offended. I’ve decided that I now must do everything possible to keep up with that group. Everyone said I needed to get gloves, bike shorts, a better water bottle, yadda, yadda, yadda. So maybe I was a little unprepared for a 68K ride but I’m still glad I went and look forward to more rides to come.

Living Abroad 2.0

Well, I thought if I ended the Guatemala chapter, I could easily jump into the Vietnam one… but where do I even start? Chapter one, I guess? It’s a bit of a daunting task to try to sum up the first two months here, so, I’m going to skimp on the details and just give you the gist.

The first week was… stressful. I was searching for an apartment with my super cool roommates, Kristi and Edwin, trying to get adjusted to the intense time zone change, and figuring out how to teach fourth graders. And after several text messages sent to family and friends at inappropriate hours, I finally realized that I was on the other side of the world and couldn’t ask my family for their opinions on every little decision that had to be made. So, I slept when I felt tired, bargained with a landlord to get a price on an apartment we were comfortable with, and dove into curriculum with a super energetic and hilarious team of fourth grade teachers.

View from my bedroom window

Here’s what has happened since then:

my wheels!

1. I bought a bicycle. I could probably devote an entire blog (not an entry, a whole BLOG!) to all the hilarious things that happen on that bicycle. I think I’m the only white female in the greater Ho Chi Minh City area that rides a mountain bike, complete with helmet (which apparently is “dorky”), and backpack strapped onto my back. Sometimes people ride next to me on their motorbikes and just stare. S-t-a-r-e. Allison told me to start smiling and waving but then I figure I’ll be the only white female in HCMC that rides a bike and smiles creepily at strangers. Don’t want to get a crazy-girl reputation just yet. Other times people move my bike from places I’ve parked it. I think they get a lot of entertainment out of me finding the bike covered in the rain that has poured for 2 hours, trying to wipe off the seat so it doesn’t soak through my pants, and ringing my bell that actually sounds more like a “dunk, dunk, dunk” sound after the rain has taken hold of it. I had my new light stolen that I promptly stole back and have even arrived at social gatherings in my bike clothes covered in sweat. See, I told you I could write a blog about my bike! I’m getting ahead of myself, let’s move on…

2. I joined the gym. Yeah, you read right. The person who has made fun of gym junkies, mocked the trends like crossfit, and blamed my hatred of yoga on my A.D.D., has joined a gym. And, I guess I like it all right. Today I laughed about how in my regular week I can spin, run, lift weights, swim, and do yoga when last year I ran 4 days a week and called it good. I am feeling more like myself again athletically and hope to join some kind of team in the near future to increase motivation and set some real goals.

coucous, veggies, and fish! (yes, I eat it... sometimes)

3. I started cooking. I know what you’re thinking; “Yeah right!” But seriously guys, this is real life. I actually make more than pasta with red sauce, scrambled eggs, and peanut butter and honey sandwiches. My roommate, Kristi, is as close to being gourmet as there is. She claims that everything she makes is “easy” and that she just “watched the food network” and became well versed in cooking. But let me tell you, this girl has some skillz! Now, I have been surrounded by good cooks for awhile now; Carrah at KU, my brothers Weston and Zack, and my Aubrey in Guatemala. All were perfect examples and role models. But I think know I used their skills as a crutch. I allowed them to make me food while I cleaned up afterward. I never thought to take notes because they were always there. The problem here is that Kristi and Edwin are dating. Dating people like to make food and eat it together. That leaves little room for me to let people make me food while I clean. I mean, can you believe that?! Its like they are completely uninterested in sharing their talents with me while I do absolutely nothing ;) Kristi has been doing an amazing job of teaching me her ways including: roasting vegetables, seasoning soups and pastas, making sizes that last for dinner and lunch for two days, and other such abilities. I haven’t had to fall back on pb&h sandwiches at all this year! Though, I do still eat peanut butter like its my job; I just eat it straight out of the jar now.

4. I have real bowel movements again. Who knew that moving from one third-world country to the next could make such a difference? Maybe it’s the increase of fiber in my fiber pills + a massive increase in vegetable eating, or perhaps things are actually cleaner here, but I’ve been more regular than I’ve been in years. Move over, always-running-to-the-bathroom Hannah, there’s a new girl in town!

5. I played at the beach. Beaches in Vietnam come with many other activities such as renting motorbikes, sliding on pieces of plastic down sand dunes, having bonfires on the beach, playing limbo at bars, buying pearl earring for $2, and getting to know your coworkers. We spent a glorious 3 days here and will certainly return.

Mui Ne, our first beach experience

6. I bought a ticket to Bangkok. We leave on Saturday. Very little has been planned largely because there is just so much to do and no way to know how to choose. Our loose plan is playing in Bangkok for a weekend then taking a train down to the southern islands. Lots of hiking, exploring, and learning will hopefully ensue. I will surely tell you more about it as it comes.

7. I’ve met some amazing people. From everywhere; Vietnam, Indonesia, Canada, Ireland, England, Holland, Poland, France… its really amazing how international this city really is. I’ve loved hearing everyone’s call to work abroad and how they are shaping their own lives and others while working here. I’m hoping that with the start of my Vietnamese lessons this week, more doors will be opened in terms of meeting new people and learning more from their stories.

My fourth grade team!

8. I got my independence back. I’m finding peace in being alone and thankful for this chance to learn more about who I think I am and who I want to be. We’ll end on that one :)

Fuiste tu

“It was you.” That was all I could say to Guatemala as I stared out the plane window and let tears fall silently into the book I wasn’t reading. It was you, who opened my eyes to the world. It was you, who provided me with the first children I ever taught on my own. It was you, who accepted me as a friend and never called me stranger. It was you, who showed me endless physical and emotional beauty. It was you, who angered me beyond reason at why things are they way they are. Drugs, disparities, danger… three D’s that run the people of that country. Three D’s that forced me to make a decision I didn’t want to have to make. Three D’s that taught me to always look over my shoulder, clutch my belongings, never be alone, and trust no one. Three D’s that, if weren’t a reality for everyone I knew, would have made me want to stay in Guatemala for the rest of my life. But it was you, Guatemala. You were my first real love outside my homeland. And I’ll never stop loving you.

My second year in Guatemala was nothing like the first one. Many things were better, many were worse, and many were just… different. But the one thing that was worse that I couldn’t let myself continue living with, was my attitude. I know now that it could have been different. I could have learned to keep my mouth shut about the injustices I was seeing around me at school. I could have learned to shut my classroom door and just love my students as much as I did without caring what others thought. But at the time, it felt impossible. I learned a lot of dirty things about education last year. And I also learned a lot about myself as an educator. I’ve always been told (and have recognized) that I am a very passionate person in every sense of the word; I experience all my emotions with great intensity. But I didn’t realize my emotions could be controlled by someone else (or, in hindsight, “that I could allow my emotions be affected by someone else’s actions”). I wasn’t happy with how my boss was running and treating people at my school and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t! I found myself venting to at least five different people about the same thing, not coming to any kind of conclusion. I was within inches of literally hating someone for the first time in my life. And I was an employee of this person! It was nuts. It was negative. I had to make it stop. And the only way I knew how to do that, since I couldn’t remove this person from the picture, was to remove myself from the situation.

So there you have it. Everything else was perfect; my students, my friends, my country. But the combination of the physical and emotional insecurities Guatemala’s safety issues gave me, and the near-hatred of the person I had to respond to and work for each day, made the answer very clear. It was time to go.

I can’t say I have any regrets. I can say that I have been forever changed from the learning experience I had when leaving Guate. It was a heartache I hadn’t known before. Even after spending my whole life moving, this one was different. The people I met there were unique in a way I’ll just never really understand. From the moment we met, I loved them and they loved me. Maybe its because it was my first teaching job and my first time abroad, but I am just not sure I’ll ever have the same love I grew to have for any other place in the world than I did with mi Guate. And I think it might still be very painful for a long time, knowing that it may not ever be a place I live in again. But for now, I will call it home.

In reflection, here are some of my favorite things/memories about Guatemala:

-the people

-my students

-my coworkers

-la bandera, el quetzal, la ceiba, la monja blanca, etc.

-the earth lodge

-paredon

-the dock at san marcos in atitlan

-the swing at semuc champey

-sweet potato, black bean burritos in antigua

-the view from the highest peak in central America

-our apartment (the second year)

-pupusas

-corn tortillas

-bottle bricks

-running partners and races

-running across the street so fast you SCREAM!

-Spanish lessons

-dinner parties

-celebrating birthdays

-our hammock

-café saul

-trail mix

-speaking with the same accents our students had

-all 15 visitors who shared these experiences

-and knowing, for certain, that I’ll be back again someday

I think of you everyday, Guatemala. I think of you as I ride my bike, walk, shop, and explore freely; I have a greater appreciation for safety. I think of you as I try to learn Vietnamese with almost not luck; I wish I spoke Spanish more. I think of you when I am alone; I was never alone the last two years (and am learning a lot about myself by, well, being by myself). I think of you when I can’t get my Vietnamese students to talk; I wish I would have never told my Guatemalan students to stop talking as much as I did. I think of you when I listen to Spanish music everyday; I wish the whole world knew music that good! And I think of your people all the time and I know I will see them again. Because, well, I’m not so sure what my life was like before I knew them :)

Fuiste tu.

Giving it another go

Hello?

Are you still there?

Are you willing to give me another shot? Can you handle the thought processes that I am going to attempt to write here? Can you be patient with me while I try to explain, once again?

I live in Vietnam now. It’s crazy. It’s different. I am very happy. Truly! But when I’m alone, which is often, I can’t seem to gather my thoughts. This is the sixth time zone I have lived in. The twelfth time I’ve put my possessions in boxes, taken a look at all I own-- the things that mean so much and the things that have lost their meaning altogether. I feel like parts of me are spread all around the world, having people that I love to the very core in all corners of this world.

And… I think that’s pretty cool. Right? 

I have a really amazing friend from Guatemala. She worked at my school for many years and each spring watched as people she loved and cherished moved on to the next chapter in their lives, the next corner of the world. It just about broke my heart (literally) to be another one of those friends that left this spring and wondered as we said goodbye when we could see each other again. I was jealous of her that she got to stay in this beautiful place I had come to call home. She was crushed to be left behind. I moved home, barely had time to unpack in time to pack again, and was off once more. Within weeks, I was settled, making new friends, living a surprisingly independent life on a new continent.

And you know what this friend was doing that whole time? Packing up her life, saying goodbye to her people, and moving to… Kuwait.

Awesome.

I feel like I needed to tell you that story. For me, its what I use as an explanation. This friend took the chance she watched everyone around her doing for so many years. She’s terrified, let me tell you, but her story has kept me positive throughout all these difficult good-byes, endless feelings of nostalgia, and questions of when we will meet again. Through it all, I can’t count the number of times people have said, “You are so brave. I wish I could do that.” Well, I hope that if this story taught you anything, it’s that you can! You. Can.

Did you hear me?

YOU CAN!

And that’s where I am right now. Clearly, having the need to write proves that I’m still a little uncertain about all this. I mean, never in my life did I think I would be teaching an after-school Spanish club to Vietnamese students but this just shows me how much of the world has now been opened to me, to my family and friends. And though I have many days still where I wake up thinking I’ll be able to hug my sweet Guatemalan students, or eat cheese and feel the cool Paris air with my brother, or go for a swim in the lake with my sister, or sit in the hot tub with my mom, or pretend to help my brother-in-law cook when really I just pick out the cooking food from the pots while he’s not looking, or eat endless amount of cereal and talk until the Kansas sun rises with Allison, or help Aubrey paint her new house, or listen while friends talk about their new jobs and roles in helping society. I have these thoughts almost daily. Daily! But every time I have these thoughts, instead of feeling sad I just smile. The same smile I had as I rode my bicycle home from school yesterday. The same smile I have as I discover something new about the city I live in that will totally change my day-to-day. The same one I have each afternoon when my students start cracking up as it starts pouring rain right as school is ending and they visualize me riding home in the rain (still smiling though!). The same smile I have right now.

I thought my feelings of nostalgia were too strong, that maybe I made the wrong choice and should be in those places where I keep dreaming of being. But I can’t possibly be in all those places or with all those people, as cool as it would be. So I’ve decided to just talk about them as much as possible (not caring who it annoys!) and bring them into my life in my own ways. Whether its writing them into math word problems, skyping for hours on end, or writing this pathetic testimony of my love for them, I am happy to know that those people who are so far away will really be right next to me forever. 

Deep breath. I think I just figured it all out, for now. Thanks for letting me type. I think I’ll leave this in my word documents for awhile until I have the courage to write my summary of Guatemala. I feel like I need to close that chapter before I can start telling you about Vietnam. I’ll get that ball rolling soon though, because every single day there is something so hilarious or interesting going on here, and now since I can’t just call you all at 3:00am like I want to, I think I’ll have to start writing again. In the meantime, you’ll be happy to know that I have been reading a lot and being reminded how beautiful it is to write. And, if there is something to be shared, it’d be a shame not to share it J

I love you all.

-Hannah

Orgullo

I had pride for Guatemala this week. I find myself criticizing and defending this country on a regular basis but this week I attended two events that completely spoke for themselves. On Thursday evening, Aubrey, Walter, Shailee (the new third grade teacher who replaced one that left), and myself drove to the museum district in the city for an evening called "Una noche en los museos" or "A night at the museums." I know what you are thinking and no, we were not shrunk into tiny people and held hostage as the artifacts came to life and tried to kill us. But that would have been awesome. Basically there was an entire street of museums roped off and allowing entrance for free. There was a museum of ancient Mayan artifacts, one of modern art, a children's museum, and a few other temporary ones with artists from around the world. There were sculptures in grassy fields, performances in the streets, vendors selling food, and seriously thousands of people there. I was so impressed that Guatemalans were filling the streets on a Thursday late at night (from 7-11pm!) for a one time event celebrating art. It was truly a beautiful thing to see so many people there feeling safe, experiencing culture, and appreciating the art of their people.

To end our perfect evening, Walter called ahead at our favorite pizza place and ordered us a pizza to be ready as soon as we exited traffic. It was on our table at the same time our drinks were and we filled our stomachs and talked about how this evening showed that there is still hope here.

Then, yesterday, the city organized an event I have never seen or heard of before; A NIGHT RUN! There was a 10K race that started at 7pm with over 6,000 people in attendance. Though the race was really frustrating because there were so many people in such small streets, I was encouraged to see that people were getting out on a Saturday night to celebrate their good health. There were people in wheelchairs, little kids, and many first-timers out there last night who were still running past 9:00pm. Maybe cities do this all around the world and I am just unaware, but I was certainly glad to see such a great turn out for Guatemala's first nocturnal run.

Today, I have almost no responsibilities except for watching the KU basketball game and grocery shopping so hopefully I'll get another blog in about my Christmas vacation (don't worry, I haven't forgotten that I still owe you some updates). Happy Sunday :)

Sarah and Weston

*Dear Reader, I explained (kinda) my absence in a post below this one entitled, "Hi." Read that one first.

Well, in order to get to the point of where I am able to blog again on a regular basis, I'll have to update you on all I neglected to say long ago (dang, if only I could have realized how much work I was making for myself by not writing as things were happening).

Sarah (my lovely sister) and Weston (her lovely husband) came to Guatemala at the beginning of December. When I think back to their trip, I just want to do it all over again. Mostly, because it was a blast and because I love them and because I want to play with them everyday.

Exploring a bit of Guate with our dear friend Juan Pabloe

There were a few speed bumps in the trip. @$$ water. Remember that vocabulary term in my blog? If you don't, I think you can picture it (try, its funny!). Unfortunately, enough of that went around during the two weeks Sarah and Weston were here to make things a little crappy (pun intended). Mix that up with a healthy dose of vomiting and you've got a whole day in the bathroom planned out. Sadly, one of my family members was dealing with both issues in one day at the very beginning of the trip. On a positive note, it all happened at the beach which surprisingly is an ideal location to have the stomach flu (or food poisoning or a parasite or whatever that was!). Did you know that the salt water of the ocean and the force at which waves hit a person can actually make them feel better? My favorite memory of the entire trip was when this said family member realized that the water was where he/she felt best and so we spent countless hours just making up games to play in the water. Who says we have to be adults?

Life is tough!

Weston submitting his Negra Modelo ad

The beach also happened to be Sarah and Weston's favorite place in the whole country. I stupidly sent them to Antigua to fend for themselves for three days while I finished up teaching for the semester. Even with a map, that place can get a little confusing. Had I thought it through more carefully, I would have gone to Antigua with them on the weekend and then sent them to the beach alone for the school days since its impossible to get lost in paradise. Buuuuut I learned my lesson and we all got back together again to head to Lake Atitlan for a long weekend.

The stages of a coffee bean from the plantation tour in Antigua

Wowie!

At the lake, we all experienced for the first time zip-lining, the affects of taking hot sauce shots as punishment during a Trivia game, and the beauty of watching people take in a new culture. I loved watching Sarah and Weston starring off into the distance at the endless beauty that surrounded us. Laughing as we drove in tuk-tuks around the small city while trying to find a massive nature reserve. Being brave and jumping off a 10m "trampoline" (apparently what Guatemalans call a platform. I asked with too much enthusiasm where the trampoline was when I read the sign only to be led to a wooden dock) into unknown waters. Making friends with young Mayan girls who convinced us to play a game of fetch with their oranges in the water (that must have been SOOOO entertaining for them!). And truly appreciating what life was like for people in Guatemala. I remember telling them that if we came back to visit the lake in 30 years, nothing would be changed. And the reaction I got from my siblings was, "That's pretty neat." I loved this response. Sometimes I get so frustrated with internal conflicts found everywhere in Guatemala and don't understand why people keep doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome. But Sarah and Weston saw it differently. In a world where everything changes so quickly and time is not an appreciated part of our lives, they saw the Lake as somewhat of a place where time sits still. I was so happy to have been provided that insight from my wise family :)

Sarah being brave all over the place!

The coolest :)

Introducing Almond Roca

Sarah and Weston of course made their Guatemalan debut at Colegio Interamericano. 3B was more than thrilled to have TWO of Miss Hannah's family members there at once. Though they couldn't understand how Sarah could possibly be older than me even though she is shorter, they had a blast getting to know them and getting to know me more through them. During their stay, they read chapters from our beloved class book "The Witches," took part in an intense interview where students were literally cheering at their answers, played a game of Stick Man which was so funny that it will literally never leave my brain, and distributed the famous Almond Roca candy from Tacoma, Washington. I am very proud of them for having left such fond memories with my students especially since both Sarah and Weston claim to be intensely afraid of children.

My favorite conversation amongst them and my students started when I told 3B that they must study their multiplication tables at home. I told them that as a child I completely ignored my teacher's plees to memorize my facts and it haunted me throughout the rest of my mathematical career. I explained that I only learned them last year when I had to teach my third graders how to multiply. I made this story out to be a huge deal, trying to pull the "regret card" and tell them not to make the same mistakes I did. When the story ended, one of my energetic students looks directly at Sarah and Weston and asks "Mr. Sarah, is that true!?" (*note, I realize I wrote Mr. Sarah instead of Miss but that's really what they called her. Also, Mr. Weston was Mr. Western). Sarah took the stage so gracefully and confirmed my story to be nothing but the truth. She took it one step further by adding that she too did not study her facts and she is still to this day not confident in her multiplication facts. That week, we had several students come to school early to start memorizing :)

As I write this, I think about how lucky I am to have had everyone of my immediate family members come see this country I've come to call home. Right now, I am full of excitement for the next time we will all meet (April 14th in BOSTON!) but am also so sad that Sarah and Weston are not still here (and the others, of course). My friends here in Guatemala ask about them often as do the students though their first question is almost always "Why they go?" or "When will the come back?" To which I respond, "Good questions!"

come back?

Stay tuned for more updates. I plan on writing about the following this week before we can be completely caught up:

1. Vacation in Seattle
2. Megan and Matt's visit to Guatemala
3. Panama
4. 3B update