Moon cakes and Hong Kong

It has been a while since my last blog entry and my only excuse is that life happens. We get busy and we find other things to fill our time. For me, it has been vacation time followed by "catch up" time followed by more "catch up" time.

When I arrived at SFS I knew there was a one week holiday that would be quickly approaching in September. The holiday is called Chuseok and it is Korean for "great middle". It is a three day holiday that occured (this year) on a Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. It is held during autumn and is a celebration of the good harvest. Traditionally, Koreans visit their homeland, pay respect to the spirit of their ancestors and partake in traditional Korean food. I was excited to learn about this holiday, but a little bummed when I found out I would not be celebrating Chuseok in Korea. Instead my school decided to send me to a professional development conference in southern China. The conference was taking place over the weekend and then we had the rest of the week free; so my friend and I decided to take advantage of this travel opportunity and head to Hong Kong.

In China they have a very similar holiday called the Harvest moon and in short, it is similar to a Western Thanksgiving, but with MOON CAKES. When I think of Thanksgiving there is the sweet aroma of freshly carved turkey, my mouth is watering from the smell of apple pie and my ears tingle when I hear the mixer battering the potatoes to make the fluffy, heavenly goodness called MOM'S MASHED POTATOES. There are freshly baked rolls, honey-glazed ham, sweet potato casserole and there is even a seven layer salad, which in my mind is just silly to serve at Thanksgiving...who has time to waste on lettuce and peas and other things that are good for you? The one thing that does NOT exist at my Thanksgiving celebration is fruit cake. You know what I am talking about, that gift that weighs about 35 pounds and is only given as a Christmas gift to those "friends" that really are not your friends. It tastes dry and has food items in there that should never go together in any normal kitchen. Well, in China for the Harvest moon festival, my friend I found moon cakes. Don't let the outside appearance fool you....Yes, she looks more attractive than a fruit cake, but just take a gander at the ingredients that go into this puppy.

•Filling:
•1 pound red azuki beans
•water
•3/4 cup lard or oil
•1-3/4 cups sugar
•Water-Shortening Dough:
•2 cups flour
•5 tablespoons lard
•10 tablespoons water
•1/4 teaspoon salt
•Flaky Dough:
•1 cup flour
•5 tablespoons lard
•red food coloring for design

Do you notice that the word LARD is used THREE times in this receipe? And the only other substantial ingredient is BEANS. The picture above is a special moon cake and has an EGG YOLK directly in the center. Yummy!

Even though we were not impressed with the moon cakes, the rest of the trip deemed to be a great adventure. Hong Kong is a massive city and is actually located on an island. We were lucky enough to be flying to Hong Kong at the exact same time as a typhoon. Deperate to not let the rain and torrential downpour damper our moods we set out on the Kowloon side and began to make our contribution to the Hong Kong economy. We were pampered with foot massages, we had some traditional Chinese food and we ate in restaurants that seemed, for all other purposes, to be a wedding reception. We visited the dragon festival, we toured the city and checked out the nightlife and we got massages. One one particular rainy day we decided to get a full body massage. We made up our mind where we wanted to go and walked into a cute little building that was hidden on the third floor along the second wall in the fifth cubicle of the 203rd building on that street. Hong Kong is known for its efficiency and the amount of businesses they can fit is one area is impressive. We walk up the skinny stairs and notice a sign that says, "No sex, please." Well, at least they are polite. :)

We are ready for our pampering and are shown our room and we notice a small area that is no bigger than my kitchen in Korea. We exchange glances with each other wondering how we are both going to fit in there along with the women that will be working on us. We decide to give it a shot - it is an adventure after all. Once inside I ask Rebecca if she is going to leave on her skivies or just strip down - it really is different in all countries so I wanted to know what to do. She said she was going to stay in her bare essentials so I decided to do the same. I was changing into my robe and I noticed a tiny piece of cloth with elastic. I looked at it and said, "Look Rebecca, they gave us something to use so we can hold our hair back." I have the cloth thingy over my head with the elastic behind my ears. She turns around and starts laughing histerically. She holds up her version of tiny cloth-elastic thingy and I notice it looks an awful lot like a thong. The lightbulb finally goes off and I quickly rip the thong-headband off my head and away from my face just in time for the ladies to come in and give us our massage. I think they were giggling and I am pretty sure I saw one of them shake their head, but I can't be sure because I tucked my head down on the table and dreamed away all my cultural faux pas. Oh Hong Kong, good memories!

Raisins and Giggles - in memory of my brother Jake

It was Labor Day in Indiana and the entire family was at our house...My grandma and grandpa were in the living room talking about the apples that were growing in their front yard, my aunt and uncle were in the dining room talking to my dad about the latest car he was trying to restore, and I was in the kitchen with my mom because I was starving and the mashed potatoes smelled heavenly. My sister and my brother were out riding their bikes trying to get all their restless energy out before lunch - then the phone rang....

I was the closest one to the phone so I answered instinctively as any teenage girl would do. My sister was on the other end in hysterics. "Jake has been hit by a car.." was all she kept repeating. "What?" My mind was racing, "Tara, calm down," was my response and then I saw my mom drop what she was doing in the kitchen and run out of the house - it was as if there was this maternal instinct and my mom KNEW something was wrong.

Today is September 7th, 2010. Twenty - three years ago today my younger brother Jake was killed in a drunk driving accident. I was 14 years old, my younger sister was 11, Troy was 4 months old and Jake was only 9. He was riding his bike with my sister and two other neighbor kids and he was hit and killed instantly. The driver had a blood alchohol level of twice the legal limit. That day is forever etched into my memory and the memory of my family.

Usually on this day I am surrounded by my family and friends. We sometimes will speak of the incident that changed our lives, but even if we don't, we are there for each other. Today, as I am millions of miles away from my family, at a new school, in a new city, I find myself wanting to reflect and wanting to REMEMBER him.

Jake was a vibrant, blonde-haired, blue eyed boy who would smile by placing his tongue on his upper teeth. Jake loved to eat raisins - they were a part of almost every meal that he had. There was a special drawer at my grandma and granpa's house that was designated just for Jake's raisins - for as far back as I can remember - I never saw that drawer empty. Jake also did not have a laugh, Jake only giggled. It wasn't a girlish giggle, it was this sound that came from pure and unadultered happiness.

Jake was this ray of sunshine that only wanted to fish with my dad, cuddle with my mom and play softball or basketball with his older sisters.

Jake loved to go camping and when we were younger we owned a trailer that we would pack up and haul to the nearest campsite. For an entrie weekend we would hike on trails, make smores by the campfire and sleep under the stars in our sleeping bags. Jake loved it so much that there were times that he wanted to go camping, but it was a Tuesday and my mom would explain that we can't go camping in the middle of the week. One time, on a school night, my mom set up our little pup tent in the back yard and Jake, my sister and I packed some cookies, a flashlight and our pillows and relished our little adventure. We had all of the ambiance of camping, but we also knew that mom and dad were inside the house only four feet away. :)

Many times over the past 23 years I have asked God, "WHY?" WHY was his life cut short, WHY was I not able to have more time with him, WHY did it destroy my family as much as it did, WHY him, not me, WHY does it still hurt? Even after all this time, there is no answer. I can question, I can live in the land of "what if.." and I can be angry at God for this tragedy that happened to my family....OR, I can understand that I DON'T have all the answers NOR do I have to have all the answers. I know that God does not give us more than we can handle and even though there were times that I was convinced that I couldn't handle this loss, God knew better.

People grieve in different ways - Most of my family does not talk about Jake and the life that we had with him for those short years, but I am different...

I love to talk about my younger brother, I love to remember funny times or the nights spent camping in the back yard, I love to write about my brother and talk to my friends about the way he was curious or the way he adored my father and mother. My grief is best spent by remembering my brother through words, thoughts and writing - this will never change. So, the next time you are around me during the month of September, please ask about my brother...and then sit with me and grab a cup of coffee because I can talk about him for hours.

Insanity and Community

INSANITY - Webster defines insanity as 1)a deranged state of mind usually occurring as a specific disorder, 2)such unsoundness of mind or lack of understanding that prevents one from having the mental capacity required by law to enter into a particular relationship, status or transaction, 3)something utterly foolish or unreasonable. I have to say that I really like number three - simple and to the point - Insanity is foolish and unreasonable behavior!

I have been getting up at 5:30am six days a week to WILLINGLY participate in an exercise program that is called INSANITY. It is a 60 day commitment or ten weeks including Saturday mornings. The gorgeous, buff man that leads the INSANITY videos is Sean T and his six pack makes that stupid loudmouth from Jersey Shore look like a SCHMUCK! Sean T believes in this thing called MAX INTERVAL TRAINING - lots of cardio and strength training for LONG periods of time with 20 second breaks in between workouts - I think MAX INTERVAL TRAINING is a professional way of saying - this workout will HURT LIKE HELL! :) The previous workout videos in my library include the Billy Blanks 15 minute "novice beginner version" of kickboxing, and the YOGA stress relieving video where the instructor is sitting on a beach and peaceful wind chimes are playing in the background! Let me just say that this INSANITY video is a bit different than those! :)

Even though at 5:30am I am cursing and sleep walking wondering WHY I do this to myself, I have to admit that I am becoming insane enough to enjoy this insanity. Believe it or not, I am not alone in my unreasonable journey! There are anywhere from 10 - 15 other staff members that meet me in the gym to sweat and grunt and moan and groan. It really is true that there is camaraderie in suffering. We are pushing ourselves, we are exercising in a pool of our own sweat, but we are doing it together! We barely speak during the workout because we are all struggling to breathe, but we go around and give every single person a TIRED, but meaningful high five when we are finished with the workout. There is accountability with each other (or maybe it is just guilt) when we send an email to our group apologizing for missing a session. We see each other on campus and give the hard core ROCK ON symbol and then say, "See you tomorrow at INSANITY!" We have a community. It might be a community that is a little off their rocker, but it is OUR community. :)

We all have our reasons for doing these INSANITY videos. Most of us are doing it to lose weight and get those amazing abs, but there are other reasons as well. I want to develop a habit of getting up early in the morning. I want to be more disciplined and if I can get up at 5:30am to go and inflict personal pain on myself, then SURELY I can be disciplined enough to memorize that bible verse that I keep putting off or making excuses for. It is said that it takes 21 days to form a habit, well, by the end of my INSANITY tour not only will I look good, I will have formed these habits three times over! :)

You don't have to join INSANITY to have community, but you do have to have SOME FORM of community to be SANE!

It's all about the journey

Hills - they are everywhere....you just can't get away from them here at Seoul Foreign School. Well, you know what they say, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!" That is exactly what I decided to do this past Saturday afternoon.

I am very blessed to have a gorgeous mountain right behind our school. We hiked up this mountain one morning during orientation at an UNGODLY hour and like I do every morning I am up at that hour, I walk in my sleep. So, as we were hiking together I wasn't really paying attention. Some would even argue that I am directionally challenged anyway so it wouldn't matter if I HAD paid attention and after this weekend, I just might have to concur.

It started off great. The woods and the beginning path is very close to the school, so I at least knew where to start. Along the trail there were a couple of times that I stood scratching my head wondering which direction I should be going, but after some trail and error I realized that I ended up arriving at the same spot on top of the mountain no matter which path I chose. I took some pictures of the skyline and obtained proof that I had hiked that mountain for a second time.

The way down is always a breeze so I turned up my tunes in my Ipod a little louder and just started trekking. I didn't even worry about which way to descend the mountain, because like before, I figured that it didn't matter which path I took, I would still pretty much arrive at the same place. Soo, I am just humming and hiking, treading and trampling, stepping and striding, when all of the sudden I come to the end of the path. All would have been fine, except I am smack dab in the middle of the city, or at least I THINK I am! I look to my right for some sort of familiarity and I see a Welcome Center. Large menacing building that says SEOUL on the outside. Because I wanted to save face and not admit that I am lost, I walk past the "not-so-welcome" set of walls thinking I will start to recognize some landmarks soon. I mean honestly, how far off campus can I be? As I head down another hill I see businesses and houses clamoring for space on the crowded street. I pass an elderly man outside of his store and I nod respectively hoping he can't smell my fear or my misguided sense of direction. I walk as if I know where I am going, my head is high and I say to myself, I am NOT lost. Walking further I still do not recognize anything. I am now getting into the MIDDLE of the city. I see a busy intersection ahead and a plethora of tall buildings. I decide to mingle with the city folk and I ask a kind man, "Yonsei University?" and I point with one hand to the right. He says something completely unintelligible to me and nods his head. Well, I MUST be heading in the right direction, I mean his nod was at least friendly. Walking further down the hill I am now in the HEART of Seoul. I see taxis whizzing by and there are a ton of people out and about....walking...in the city....The only difference between them and me, I was LOST! I am starting to panic just a tad as I am rehearsing my Korean phrases that I have tried to commit to memory. Mind you, I have nothing on me except a backpack filled with water, my Ipod and the keys to my apartment. No WON (Korean money) to get a taxi home and no bus card (which I have found is helpful to have on you AT ALL TIMES)! So, I continue my pace looking for any friendly Korean face that is begging to answer me in English. I pass two college age girls and ask them, "Yon-hi Dong, Yonsei University?" She replies in English, "I am not sure where that is but there is a University over there" and points about two blocks away. I thank them profusely and continue on my way. I begin to hum again and even chuckle at myself for ever thinking I was lost - I wasn't lost, I was just getting more exercise! I come up to the University and my brow furrows as I realize that I don't recognize any of those buildings either. I have walked and ran around Yonsei University a few times so I am becoming more and more familiar with the campus. I inch closer and look at a sign that says, EWHA WOMEN'S UNIVERSITY. What? That can't be right! Panic sets in again and I feel the sweat dripping down my back. I take a couple of deep breaths and count to ten as my relaxation tapes would suggest and then I REALLY START TO FREAK OUT! I am LOST, full on LOST and I have NO IDEA where I am! My mind is starting to play tricks on me and I think it is getting darker out, soon to be pitch black, and I may even be lost walking around in the city at NIGHT! I spot a police officer near a stoplight and I don't even care that he is directing traffic at a busy intersection, this is an emergency and I need HELP. I walk up to him on the verge of tears and I hike up my "big girl" britches and I say, "Yonsei University?" Blank look, no response. I say it again slower and louder, "YON...SEI....UNI...VER...SI....TY?" He then replies as if he is annoyed, "Yonsei is near Severance Hospital, and...." I raise my hands up exuberantly and I say, "Severance Hospital? I KNOW THAT PLACE!" I have a big smile on my face as he explains the location is a couple of blocks down to my right. I almost kiss the man and then realize all those culture taboos and decide instead to bow and say, "Kam-sa-nida (thank you in Korean)" I skip away down the streets once again, head held high, smile on my face and grateful that I was FOUND.

Over the weekend I started to think about this experience in relationship to life. It really is ALL about the journey. I am sure there are many others out there that have gotten LOST geographically and maybe even LOST soul-fully. Getting LOST is a part of life. It is a crappy part of life, but it still exists. I am a firm believer in life lessons for every situation. I love to write/blog about the happenings of my middle school students because I believe that even though those TWEEN years are tumultuous, turbulent, muddled, topsy-turvy, mixed-up and messed up, there are life lessons to be learned. So, again, it IS all about the journey. Whether that journey is your next job, dealing with a sick child, learning to master chopsticks (my most recent journey) or even finding your wandering soul, remember it is a process, you WILL get lost. Along the journey, don't be afraid to talk to others, share your experiences, your pain, your joy. You might not understand what others are saying, but keep trying. When you feel you are really lost, remember to breathe deep and count to ten....if that doesn't work, FREAK OUT and CRY (has always been helpful for me)! We might get lost on our way to our destination, but PRESS ON my friend for the journey might be long, but the rewards of being FOUND and coming home leave you with your hands in the air shouting at police officers and wanting to plant kisses on total strangers!

Thighs of steel

I have been living as a contented soul in Seoul for the past ten days. I am getting adjusted to my new culture, my new school, my new co-workers and the new HILLS - very soon my pants are going to start to fit a little tighter in the upper leg region because I am developing thighs of steel!

I moved into my new surroundings with a surprisingly seamless transition. The flight was long, but the customs process was painless and efficient. As I entered Incheon airport, my colleagues from Seoul Foreign School stood ready to greet and assist me. I unloaded my luggage and met native English speakers and was transported to my new school in a shiny, black HUMMER! SO FAR SO GOOD!

I arrived on campus and was introduced to my FREE apartment and quickly learned that my new digs were more than enough for one single girl. Snooping through my pad, I opened my refrigerator to see milk, cheese, bread and a small package with Korean symbols that resembled yogurt. It is the summer months so the weather is a bit hot and sticky. My first night in Seoul, South Korea was spent unpacking, showering and falling asleep to the sweet sounds of air conditioning!

This school is LEGIT - the Human Resources takes care of each new teacher by providing our bonus money on the second day of school. For the first week we are provided breakfast, lunch and dinner and even given the option to participate in group wide trips to Home Plus (Target equivalent) and COSTCO! Our weekend entertainment consisted of a tour of the subway and a trip to a Korean dance festival in which we could pay $5 to dress in traditional Korean costumes (see photo above)!

There is something to be said for a school that has an AVERAGE teacher stay equal to almost five years. It is impressive when a school boasts about the sabattical option for teachers or the 50% tuition reimbursement. It is shocking to be granted a brand new MAC book PRO laptop and given the option to buy a IPhone where the school will take care of all the red tape. There is a great sigh of relief when you are employed by a school that designs their programs/curriculum and health care with ALL teachers in mind! I have a tax free salary, I have health benefits, I have a savings account, I have a retirement, I have FREE housing, I have a food allowance, utilities allowance, professional development funds, and fifteen personal days. I am surrounded by a community of hard working, faith building, professionals! I have arrived.

I have arrived in more than one sense of the word. I have physically arrived in Seoul, South Korea. My body is aching from the LARGE hills that I have to climb in order to reach the city. I am exhausted with meetings and anxious for the school year to begin. I have arrived in a culture that is foreign to this foreigner, yet, I sit at my desk content. My thighs ache, but my soul is at ease - I have arrived! I have finally arrived!

Generational gladness

Generations: the process of coming into being and bringing another into being, the span of time between the birth of parents and their offspring, a line of descendents.
I have been fortunate enough to have both sets of grandparents alive when I was 30 years old. I lost my grandpa (my dad's father) about five years ago, and then we lost my grandma (my dad's mother) last summer. I was able to spend a lot of time with my Dad's parents since they always lived in Indiana. I miss them greatly and have so many fond memories of them. My mom's parents are still alive and living in Texas. They have always lived in Texas while I grew up so I was not able to have as much time with them. My granny (mom's mother) and I have something very special in common. I was born on my granny's 40th birthday. My mom was very young when she had me which meant that my granny became a GRANDMOTHER much sooner than she maybe would have wanted. She told me a story about the day of my birth and said that the doctor came to see her after I was born and said, "Are you having a good birthday?" She said, "Not really, I became 40 and a grandmother all in the same day!" :)
Since I have not been able to spend much time with my Texas relatives, I decided to spend my birthday with my Granny this summer. It was a big event as my mom, my step-dad, my oldest niece and I crammed into a car to drive to Abilene, Texas. It was a 13 hour car ride and we made the most of it with the portable DVD player, books, funny car games and switching drivers to make it easier.
We spent time with my brother and his wife at a Rangers baseball game topped with 4th of July fireworks and we enjoyed some Texas BBQing with my cousin and her family.
The actual day of my birthday my Granny made me some homemade biscuits (my only request from her for my birthday), I beat my Grandad at a game of dominoes and we had a grand time telling old family stories.
It was so interesting watching my family and the different generations. One night we were all gathered around the living room telling tales. Lexy (my oldest niece who is 15 going on 21) is sitting beside me on the couch with her phone blowing up every 2 seconds from a new text. Her fingers are flying at the speed of light as she texts back and then lifts her head up to try to engage in the conversation. I roll my eyes and listen to the stories of my Grandad being obnoxious and I check my much less expensive phone to see if anyone has sent me a text, NOPE. I look over at my mom who is laughing and crying at the same time from the stories she is hearing about her Daddy. She makes a comment about how stubborn he was and how she is glad she never inherited that bullish attitude. We all laugh together because we know HER and we know BETTER! My granny is sitting next to my grandad just listening to him talk - she has probably heard this story 100 times yet she listens with the intensity like it is the first time. Grandad, who loves to be the center of attention, will look over at Granny every once in a while just to see if she is paying attention. He loves to talk, but he really is concerned with whether or not SHE is his audience.
There is a difference in the generations. The current generation is bombarded with the newest and the greatest technology. Anything to keep you pushing buttons and looking at a screen is the NEW form of communication. My generation is still addicted to technology, but there is that value in relationships and meeting others for coffee, face to face interaction. My mom's generation TRIES to use the technology, but most of their time and energy is spent on reading manuals and asking the kids how to use things. Her generation thrives on relationships and story telling. She remembers playing in the yard for hours and NOT getting bored. She remembers the value of a dollar and what strong morals can do to a family. My granny's generation is the one that I think we can learn the most from. Her generation knows technology exists, but doesn't have time, energy or patience to invest in a machine. Granny tells stories of hard work and true love at the age of 16. She shows me pictures of her and my grandad where the love they share is so evident it practically jumps off the page. I laugh as I see almost every picture has PDA (public displays of affection)! He is constantly holding her hand, or has his hand around her waist or draped over her shoulder. He was crazy about her back then and it is still evident as they are about to celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. Granny sits patiently next to her husband of 60 years. She smiles when he talks, she talks when she needs to and she lives her life devoted to God and to taking care of her husband and her family. I look around the room at the offpring of her and Grandad's hard work and love. I am PROUD to be part of THIS generation, but I am more proud to be a part of the Dozier/Skidmore family!

There's no place like home

Dorothy got it right as she was clicking those ruby red slippers chanting about her home sweet home in Kansas. There really is no place like it and I have to say that living overseas has helped this thought to become a reality.
I don't really have a HOME anymore. I am a vagrant traveler and I love the adventures I have been on over the past three years. I have a place of residence, but I really don't have a home. I have resided in Bolivia and am now an expat living in Seoul, South Korea. Even though I do not have four walls and a roof to call my own, every summer I have a strong yearning to be back in Indiana and spend time with my family and friends. The house where my parents now live is not the same house where I grew up, yet it is the summer memory maker, therefore it represents HOME to me.
I get to spend anywhere from four to six weeks at home every summer. For the past three years there are a few dates that I consistently circle on my calendar, the date when school starts, the date when school ENDS and the date in which I fly back HOME for the summer. When I arrive home (no matter how early or how late my flight arrives) my mom is always there to greet me. Pulling into the drive (usually at an ungodly hour) I notice the light on in the spare bedroom - the light illuminates from the room and I can see the oversized pillows and the cozy comforter from the street. I let out a big sigh and said, "It is so good to be home".
There is a comfort when you are in a place that you know is not your own, but you feel the freedom to raid the refrigerator or lay on the couch and curl up with a blanket. I have friends that have these inviting houses - I know I do not live there, but I have a soothing spirit cover me like a blanket and I know it is a safe haven, a peaceful resort, my hide away.
After a school year, most teachers know that our batteries are running pretty low by the time June rolls around. My family also is aware of this concept and whenever I arrive in Indiana, it is as if my family can see the blinking red light on my human batteries showing that the charge is almost empty. After a couple of home cooked meals, some time out walking in the sunshine and some family games, the battery light starts to read a little stronger. With some coffee and conversations with old friends, my human meter starts to flash RECHARGING. By the end of the summer after many family photos, softball games, pool parties and good ol' fashioned BBQ's - my battery is fully charged!
HOME is much more than a place where we lay our head at night or wake up to the smell of coffee brewing. HOME is a place where family and friends are together, HOME is a place where you feel comfortable just being yourself, HOME is a place where love and laughter abound.
Man, it is good to be HOME!