Running around Armenia

Running

There really isn’t a running culture in Eastern Europe or Eurasia.  And even more rare are female runners.  That’s a reason I get a lot of weird stares…like they think I’m robbing a bank or a spy chasing after some villain, but maybe I lost him?  (seriously, can I be a spy? Putin, if you are reading this…I’m watching you. and yes. that is a tiger.)



Sometimes I do feel like I’m in some survival training as I try to manage the suicidal sidewalks or lack thereof and instead am confronted with the even more dangerous highways as I feel the impact of the electrons of the cars reaching into my personal forcefield to say hi.  Seriously? No one drives on their side of the line anyways, so why do you insist on doing it when a runner is in your lane?



Why do I continue to risk my life for a hobby that only results in shin splints and arthritic knees?  I believe my run in Yerevan will summarize it perfectly.  I will highlight the truths learned on my journey which is less about the calories burned and more about the adventure literally and mentally. (Although, I admittedly run so I don’t feel guilty for consuming catastrophic quantities of chocolate to celebrate office-Friday)



I went running yesterday to my favorite spot in Yerevan.  It was 6 miles, but I could have done more.  Here’s why: with every step I discovered more culture of this beautiful country - some good, some great, some humbling, some annoying.



1.  Sidewalks - even if you can find them, they are uneven, a mess of holes, or turned into a parking lot...for those lazy people who drive cars and can't even stand to walk 2 blocks to actually park their cars.  It's like they forget they have legs or something.

2.  Cancer???  I inhaled so much 2nd-hand smoke, I might need a lung transplant.  (I have to admit, this is one issue that makes me appreciate America with it’s smoke-free restaurants, I can actually have my cake and eat it too…)

3.  People love to hangout.  Walking is a hobby here.  Just going on a stroll with your baby, your boyfriend, your best friends is a typical everyday activity.

4.  GUYS HOLD HANDS!! And they aren’t gay… It’s so cool. 



5.  And girls and guys can’t keep their hands off each other.  PDA can be nauseating.  One couple making out in the park is kind of sweet and cute, but…15…seriously?  Let’s just have a special park for lovers and they can all gather there and tell me so it’s not included on my route.



6.  Guys bring girls flowers.  It’s so adorable passing a couple with the girl carrying a(n obnoxiously) large bouquet of roses or a guy just heading out to meet his date unashamedly carrying a colorful collection of flowers.  Sometimes I’m tempted to stop running… ;)

(AND when there’s a BIG bouquet…they can’t make out until they’ve found a place for the flowers! WE ALL WIN!!!)



7.  It’s not always 'like riding a bicycle'.  Most people don’t learn to ride a bike. BUT, it’s a new fad and it’s awesome running by a reasonably smooth surface (remember how rare those are) seeing so many ADULTS trying to ride a bike for their first time. 

8.  Men will pee anywhere, especially when they are drunk. 

mouth-watering?

9.  Bakeries - America, you don’t know what bread is...and I pity you.
  FACT: bakery fumes are filled with fascinating powers.  I could run 100 miles if every mile there was a bakery.  AND, in Armenia, you don't find a bakery, a bakery finds you.  There are no less than 5 bakeries within a 1-mile radius.  (So, once we stop the cigarettes…I think Armenias will be superheroes!)

10.  Strength; Not my own.  I ran to the genocide memorial.  It has a beautiful park, usually away from smokers and a great view over the city.  It reminds me that Armenians have sacrificed.  They are resilient.  And they are building a stronger future.  I have so much hope for my friends here that inspire me by their kindness and love.  



Dear World,

We study history because otherwise we would forget how stupid people become when they do not remember the past.  It’s a circle really.

But, I do believe the only way we’ll end tragic events like genocide is to remember their history, the pain, the loss, the destruction, and especially the lies that enabled them. And then remember the survivors - their strength, endurance, hope, and sacrifice.



I know this isn’t in my usual blog-style.  But, I am choosing to remember.
And running through Armenia is a good reminder.


update:
3 days later I started a tour of Southern Armenia for work. 
I've been in two small villages with more observations!

I was able to lace up my running shoes (not literally...I'm one of those lazy people who will rarely untie them) in Yeghegnadzor (everytime I try to say it, someone corrects me...I'm pretty sure my mouth was just not meant for this city)  HOWEVER, my feet were!  I was in heaven!!  I found an idyllic country road and got in another 5 miles!  It was perfect!!

SO, my list has to continue:

11.  Running reminds me that there are many different ways to enjoy life!

I ran down and through the valley of Yeghegnadzor!

I passed by strangers, once I found a real road leading back into town, who just stared as if I was a creature from space.  There were maybe two restaurants in town and even the grocery story I visited only sold meat, cheese, and bread.  SO, they are enjoying home cooked meals everyday.  Probably not going out clubbing, concerts, or even the movies (didn't see one of those in town yet either), but they wake up in heaven every morning!

A view from downtown!

It's not dirty...but, that's my underwear...hanging outside your window.

So, my life isn't as glamorous as some may think.  True, I have enjoyed many different cities throughout the world.  But, I think this post will highlight a less-than polished perspective of the mundane moments I have endured whilst traveling.

Inevitably, when you are least prepared the worst happens.  Sometimes it's the inability to prepare (first example) and sometimes it's just optimism (second).

I have travelled extensively for the past few years and I cannot even remember when my checked-luggage was late.  There was that one time I missed my plane to Kyiv and my luggage actually arrived BEFORE I DID.  Let's talk about being betrayed by efficiency.  I had to heckle with customs officers for hours in my broken Ukrainian and their broken English (this was my first trip to UA) in order to finally retrieve it.  There's nothing that beats jet-lag after a ridiculously long international flight, than the first introduction to Ukrainian bathrooms and 'card-board' toilet paper, OR the arbitrary lines formed in post-soviet countries to avoid waiting but instead become an endless maze that even the most skillful navigator who upon reaching the surface will find that the 'exit' is temporarily closed whilst the passport officer has his/her 15-min bathroom break, OR an over-bearing 'welcome' from an unhappy and corrupt customs worker who I now realize probably made me wait for hours thinking he could get a bribe out of the new American whose luggage was sitting just behind his desk wrapped in cellophane. What he didn't count on was my extreme naivety.  (that was then...now, $10 otta do it...or increase by $5s...oh, and it's called a "tip" not a bribe.) Yeah, thanks to Ukraine, I grew up fast.  That was just the first day but it didn't tarnish my trip too much since I keep going back!

And now that brings us to present day.  Only slightly reversed.

Usually for a long trip, I'll sufficiently pack a carry-on with all the essentials.  But, my optimism and excitement for a 14-hour layover in Vienna made me disregard all travel-blogs as I thought about enjoying Strudel and a concert in Mozart's flirtatious city.

Hello, Vienna! Took this picture of the Riesenrad while biking through Leopoldstadt.

I could store a bag in a locker, but really? When was the last time I didn't get my luggage?  (Actually, I remember now...Ukraine 2 years ago...had a nice "tip" to pay when it was finally found...But, I certainly didn't remember that with visions of Vienna circulating throughout my head).  Therefore, I 'threw all caution to the wind' as I optimistically packed my magical Thai sling-bag with travel size toothpaste, makeup, water-bottle, i-pad, an umbrella (because I at least headed the advice of the weather man...WHO WAS WRONG.  Go figure. Try to be prepared and it's useless. Don't prepare and armageddon starts.)  and my running shoes (yes, I cannot bear to not have them for one day...and yes, I will run in 100 COUNTRIES before I die.  Unless I die prematurely...in that case, please see my funeral instructions for details: Amy's Funeral Pyre), and of course the necessary clothing allowance.  (Thai sling-bags are essentially the precursor to the carpet-bag, which the charming Marry Poppins transcendentally flaunted for the entire-world to revere.)

The fact that my trip to Vienna, which this post will not portray, was practically perfect, made the particular coincidence on this said occasion of which my luggage got stuck in Vienna -  despite the 17 hours in which a semi-observant person working for Vienna airlines could have figured out what to do with 2 abandoned black bags - only a minor nuisance and not the supreme tragedy it could have been.  Although, the 2 hours it took after arriving at 3:30 am in Yerevan to locate my lost luggage was slightly irritating (irritation caused from sleep-deprivation mostly and REMEMBER THOSE ARBITRARY POST-SOVIET LINES...yeah, those came in to play again.)

More Vienna...I think the church has re-branded itself.
I didn't know H&M was Catholic?
History Lesson: This church was constructed to honor the survival of Franz Joseph
from a knife-attack...how many assassins did these emperors endure before WWI?

Assured my luggage would most-likely arrive the next day, I made it to my apartment and slept a few hours before going to work.  That was Wednesday.  Luggage was promised to be delivered on Thursday.  And, I had a recruitment trip on Friday.  With only one spare change of clothes (one of which was strictly for exercise and a cultural faux pas to wear anywhere in Eastern Europe or Eurasia for anything else but exercising...yes, American college students, you don't actually have to wear gym clothes to class...in fact you may be shunned if you do.) I prudently decided to do some laundry.  Yes, it was in my sink...but, when living in hotels across Eastern Europe doesn't come without learning a few tricks.  Especially since laundry-mats are a novelty and as rare as the truth in a Kremlin media-release. 

That is where this story reaches it's apparent climax.  My apartment is situated on the 10th floor close to Yerevan's center.  My windows look out over a busy street, with stunning views of the opera house, Soviet-Mother Armenia, the Ferris wheel all lit up at night, and the Cascades.  It is out one of those windows that I hung, evidently not so securely, my laundry to dry for the night.  Waking up at an unquestionably early hour whether from my body trying to familiarize itself with it's new time-zone or an illuminating realization that my underwear was hanging outside a 10-story window, I felt I should be concerned.  Now, it wasn't torrential and I wasn't ashamed of lining up bras and socks to drip-dry, but even a slight sigh at 10-stories is enough to whip a pigeon in circles.  I rushed to my window to rescue my laundry!  The breezy-morning had taken its toll but I was able to retrieve all but the most pertinent part to every-day attire...you know...the underthing...undies...my loin cloth.

Yeah, it was gone...but, in the radiant light of the sunrise I spotted it precariously perched on my 9th-floor neighbors line.  Watching in disbelief, wishing for one arm to be 9 feet longer, I waited for another gust of wind to come along and take them all the way down so I could at least run down to the street to pick them up off the side-walk.  I was not about to introduce myself to my neighbors in broken Russian and have to explain what my underwear was doing on their balcony.  But, I'm still waiting.

Yerevan!

Oh, and Happy Independence Day, Armenia!!

White-water rafting adventure - the Asian way.

My life keeps on evolving (technically, I guess everything is).  I use this phrase, because I don't like to say that 'this adventure is ending' or 'I'm moving on' because no adventure ever ends but rather proceeds forward as if a passage that opens into a vast foyer with an endless array of enchanting corridors to explore.  I never know which hall I'll wander through next and maybe eventually I'll find a secret door that opens up to preceding scenes with the opportunity for a fresh exploration.

Since I'll be leaving Taiwan, I decided I needed to glory in the lusciousness of the island with one final hoo-rah.  I had a few options, and although my original plan fell through (no it wasn't swimming with sharks...that was Plan F), plan B was just as amiable.

Friday night I made arrangements to go white-water rafting down the Xiuguluan (in case you are like me and have no idea how to pronounce it, you can just say: the ChickityChinatheChineseChickLaun) river.  (they understand...)  Anyways, I enjoy white-water rafting.  I wouldn't say I'm an expert by any means.  But, I did grow up in Arkansas, the natural state, (said like you should actually know what that means) famous for the white-river, buffalo river, Arkanas river, and et al. (humor me. It's been a year since I finished grad school and haven't written an academic paper since).  The best experience rafting was in CA down the Truckee river with 4+ rapids and awesome guides that taught us how to paddle through or duck inside, while they made balancing on a raft seem like reading a book in a hammock.  (Only a really skilled person can claim mastery of the hammock). (Side note: I bought a hammock in Cambodia!)

 Okay, so back in Taiwan, I caught a bus and found a lovely group of people from Hong Kong heading to the river with me.  They helped translate for me, although they technically don't speak Mandarin.  Let's get this cultural lesson over with: In Hong Kong, people speak Cantonese.  But, since it's almost technically China (as of the 70s with fulfillment in 2040s) many of them can understand Mandarin.  However, Taiwan (also in a territorial dispute with China) speaks traditional Mandarin which is slightly different than simplified Chinese spoken in China China (and possibly by the Chinese ChickLaun).  SO, basically really none of us understood what was going on.  (and really, world? I think just trying to figure out this crazy planet is more difficult than maneuvering a category 5 rapid.)

After a lovely drive down the coast of Taiwan, we made it to the river where we would embark on a raft ending at the mouth of the Pacific. (Although, once I saw the wide mouth of the river opening into the Pacific, I thought paddling that would be more fun. I just heard about a group of girls kayaking around Taiwan that just passed Hualien. Seriously, why don't I ever get ideas like this?)  My Hong Kong friends and I decided to share a raft and went through the necessary training, which consisted of us not listening to a word that was said to us in Mandarin whilst speaking in English about Saturday Night Live and Obama Care.

I would also like to mention that by this time I started to realize that I was the only Caucasian among hundreds of Asians.  Yes, I'm living in Asia. And that's usual.  But, normally when I do something touristy, there are at least a handful of Indo-European folks that help minimize the awkward stares. But, no. Today, it was just me.  That should also have been a warning sign for what would soon ensue.

Alright, so we finally are waved to a raft.  We were basically the last ones, because we never knew what was going on and just followed the people in front of us.  WHICH HAPPENED TO BE HALF OF CHINA! Pretty sure China isn't just making up population statistics to win the 'most humans' award.  Thankfully they had visual demonstrations to show us how to sit ON and STRADDLE the boat. Yeah, one of our legs dangles over the side of the raft.  (warning sign #2.  I just assumed there was a standard way to raft since every time I've rafted, it's been the same (even in Thailand...so, it's international.))

No. Nothing was standard about this.

I'll give my reasoning first: So many people want to raft down this river, and there aren't enough guides to fill every boat.  Most Asians, bless their hearts, love adventure...but, not extreme.  So, in order to accommodate the thousands that go down the river during the course of one day, they simplify it as best they can.

Observation: although this was a rafting trip, I'm pretty sure I was the only one wearing a swimsuit.  Okay, there were a few overly prepared people in wet suits.  But, I was surprised with the number of people wearing jeans.  Not shorts.  I'm talking to the ankle jeans.  (Asians also have a fear of the sun and extreme trust issues with sunscreen.) 

Exhibit A:

Maybe about an inch of skin is visible on everyone in that raft.

Next, we pick-up the rafts and carry it into the river and despite the scorching hot seats, we sit.  But, there is no guide. (Bummer, because they were dark and attractive...and the last guide in Thailand wanted me to kiss him...which I regretted not doing. ;) YOLO!) Warning sign #3. 

I was about to discover the Asian version of White-Water rafting...

I quickly realized that my cohorts in the raft with me had no idea how to paddle.  Maybe that was something that they mentioned during the instructional portion so, understandable. But, looking around, it was obvious that the message didn't get through...or maybe they weren't speaking Mandarin at all.  Most rafts were basically playing paddle war, clanking paddles together which then progressed quickly into a splash war.  It was a wonder that we were all still going the same direction albeit, we should probably thank the current for that.  I proceeded to give my friends the basics about paddling in a rhythm and about to explain how to paddle when we were literally ramped by a raft.  Literally. ...and you still have no idea what I'm describing.  Remember the guides that are mysteriously missing from our boats?  Well, they are now in rafts all of their own...with motors.  They are speeding all around us, splashing the hundreds of Asians and one Caucasian as we aimlessly paddle wherever the current leads us.  AND, when we get to close to a tricky spot, shore, canyon, rocks, a 'guide' will yank up his boat full throttle and slam right into our rafts.  It's hilarious.  We're just floating along and then we have seconds to duck inside our boat as the boat ramps and lodges itself over our boat to push us into the path with the others. 

This is how we rafted-down the ChicketyCherryCola River.  Oh, it was also a constant splash fest since we really didn't have to use our paddles to actually paddle.  Raft retaliated against raft in the battle of the splash.  Alliances were made and those who didn't fall in because they were caught off guard from splashing and missed the side swipe of the guide's rafts were considered victors.  And new battles commenced.  I felt like I was in 6th grade at the community swimming pool in Flippin, Arkansas (YES, it's a real place) with splash wars where the girls teamed up against the guys and inevitably lost.  I totally redeemed myself today.  Asians were desperately searching for the English words of mercy that they knew...and all quickly learned, that I still don't speak Chinese!

So, yeah.  White-water rafting in Taiwan - a cross between bumper cars, cattle herding, and that epic water fight everyone has when they finish their first year of middle school.

Loved every minute of it.

Taiwan, you are my soul-mate!

Never accept gifts from a Taiwanese grandma!

So, I've been meaning to post...but, I have so many crazy stories I don't know where to begin.  Therefore, I will carpe diem and write about it.  Literally...today. July 14, 2014.  I know some of you might be disappointed and want to read about adventures petting Tigers in Thailand or diving in the reefs at Kho Tao...but...I'll seize that some other day.

Sundays are by far my most favorite days for so many reasons.  Church, Covenants, Friends, and Mormons are kind of awesome! Basically spending the day with 100+ of the coolest people in Hualien (or wherever I happen to be)  = happiness!

Here's what happened today.

After church, I've been volunteering as a piano teacher to anyone who has fingers and desire (not that you have to have fingers to play, but I told them that is all they needed to come, but I could make adaptations. So far everyone has fingers...although I have to remind many of them that the thumb counts as a finger as well!).  I've had Asian students before, but this was a group class and most of them don't speak English so it's 10x as fun!  I'm super impressed with what they have accomplished!  Many can already play a few simplified hymns and others are learning a few simplified arrangements of the classics (Western pieces). 

My Taiwanese grandma has also been attending lessons.  She doesn't always look at the music and plays a lot of the time by ear.  So, although she might be in the wrong key, she totally gets something.  However, she hates scales (she's one who refuses to use her thumbs...or really any more than 4 fingers to play (both hands)).  After 2 weeks of encouraging them to play a few simple scales, and her futile protests, she humbly led me downstairs to present me a gift (It was a black skirt); this time it was my time to protest.  But, you see...she's a grandma...and grandmas always get their way.  There's also this thing called a 'language barrier' and suddenly I'm back in Bulgaria where 'no' means 'yes' and 'yes' means 'no'.  (An effective strategy to deal with an invasion by the Ottomans as well as young reluctant piano teachers who just want you to practice scales.  Is this a bribe?)

Before I continue, let me introduce you to Grandma Si Do (Yeah, we use solfege ;) )

From my very first week, this sweet little lady would give me big hugs after church and tell me "I love you", basically the only English she knows.  Even without translators, it's obvious this lady is smart, kind, full of love, life, and happiness!  Typical to grandma form, she's superwoman.  I've hiked with her on our church children's hike, and she basically does what she wants.  The very next Sunday after this awkward gift exchange, she snuck me down stairs in between classes to where the children were having snack time.  (I HAD NO IDEA THEY DID THIS!)  She just walked up to the teachers, flashed them a smile, grabbed some guava and a handful of lychee and shared them with me.  I'm pretty sure she does this every week.

The next week, she again sneaks me downstairs.  This time I had sought advice, and was told the best thing to do was just accept and be grateful.  It was her ability to give that brought her happiness -  another reason why I love this sweet grandma!  But, It is possible that she worked for the Taiwanese Secret Service, because there is something mysterious about the whole process: she keeps putting her index finger up to her lips, checks the halls to see that no one is watching, and hides in the 'closet' when presenting me with a bag, then signals for me to hide it...almost like a drug deal...but we are in church...and I'm given a massive bag of 2nd-hand clothes.  The bag was full of pretty eclectic tops that all reminded me of my grandma back in Arkansas and her passion for thrift stores. 

I modeled a few:

Well, a few weeks passed, I went to Hong Kong, Thailand, Cambodia, and Taipei.  It took about another week to get the piano class back into the routine of things.  However, today after church she came up to me with this sly look on her face and flashed an even bigger smile when she hugged me.    Immediately I was the center of a plot to forever seal my fate and destiny to the island of Taiwan. Grandma Si Do seized the day to propose on behalf of her son, whom I have never met.  She proceeded to arrange my next week with dinners, rides to her house, and details of how strong, attractive, hard-working [insert every other amiable quality to be desired in a man here] her son is. 

I was sitting next to my friend, Apple who spoke English.  I feel like it is also pertinent that this was precious Apple's first day attending church and has now become the translator of an arranged Mormon wedding.

I managed to escape briefly by retreating to the Bishop's office.  But, I was found again and thankfully there were nice Elders willing to translate and finalize the details of our wedding...in an hour after our piano class. (Can this get any more awkward?)

She tried to make light of the fact that he didn't show up by inviting me over for dinner and giving me a banana.  But, now that this guy has already stood up his betrothed at the altar (aka piano bench), I'm not sure if can give him even a first chance.  I mean, I guess if he has a really cool name like Earnest. (Who's gonna get that reference? And yes, I don't even know his name. Romantic?)

The good news:
I have a skirt...and some pretty classy clothes that can substitute for a wedding dress. 
I'm deciding between either Fluffy Sparkly - Blue Sweater or Shoulder Pads and Hidden Buttons - Red Blazer.  Your votes count.

AND SERIOUSLY. 

Happy Mother's Day!!

I am taking a brief respite of posts about Taiwan to share why this day is so meaningful to me. I am not a mother nor is my mother alive, but that does not stop me to appreciate all the great things that mothers do in this world and to give thanks for the inspiring surrogate mothers that taught me the basics of life: from the importance of deodorant to putting on makeup in 5 minutes and especially to have confidence in who I am. These women have taught me to serve, to teach, to have fun and to appreciate the calling of a woman!

First, the real surrogate: Grandma Thompson This woman is a rock. She rarely changes her mind and it’s usually because she’s right; she is loaded with experience. She was born in 1930 and worked harder than her 2 brothers on the family farm. And she had to work hard, she learned to walk and to run during the onset of the great depression. This wonderful woman later had 10 kids. Now, do you think she worked hard? But, if birthing 10 babies isn’t enough for society, she also was quite successful at her job which rewarded her with trips to exotic places such as Jerusalem and Hawaii. envious? And, just when she thought she could finally relax and move to the peaceful state of retirement away from the crazy wintery-ness of the north - she was asked to be the guardian for 3 more crazy children all less than 5 years of age.

I think the curtains say it all.

She tells me she has no regrets and for that I am thankful. She found other part-time jobs and ‘til this day she still volunteers regularly and can be found picking strawberries for a local farm or at a thrift store to support the disabled. She will be 84 this year. This dear mother, has been mothering for over 60 years. She isn’t perfect, but what mother is. She has taught me to value hard work, not give up, and to courageously accept the trials in my life. Like any good mother she has believed in me and supported me at all my concerts, competitions, and even helped me move 4 times (in her 70s and 80s - she’s seriously superwoman). She patiently listened to me figure out the piano and endured the squeaky years of the clarinet. She bravely watched on as I twirled fire batons and took my first solo international trip to Europe (I was 17). She kind of figured out the computer, at least enough to send me e-mails during my 18-month mission in Ukraine; and although they are short and simple, she reminds me that life is short and it’s the simple things that give us joy. Her faith is solid and her prayers are usually answered miraculously! I am thankful for all that she sacrificed to be a mom!

Second, The grandma who taught/is teaching me to enjoy life: Grandma Murphy This woman has some great stories from pretending she was adept at skiing on her first date with grandpa (she had him convinced! and it coincidentally was her first time to ski), to snowmobiling through the parks of Minnesota. She has been young in heart since I can remember visiting cabins in the summer, learning to fish off the pontoons, and riding with her on jet-skis until I was finally old enough to go myself! She also came from a generation where working hard in any profession was an achievement, from nursing to climbing the ladder at one of the Twin Cities most prestigious news papers, in my eyes she has achieved success professionally and as a mother. In fact, she didn’t start her maternity leave from work when she was pregnant with my father until the day she went into labor. I’m sure that was comfortable. How many other times do mothers sacrifice their own comforts for their children?? (Because the stretchmarks from 9 months of a baby growing inside of you really isn’t a big deal not to mention the other puzzle of getting it out). Although I only spent a few weeks every year with her, we always had fun!! From checking out the newest movie with Leonardo DiCaprio, to shopping trips, to swimming on the beach. Even now she shows interest in my interests which (excluding Leonardo DiCaprio) have evolved as I have discovered myself. AND what great grandma takes their great granddaughter out on the jetski? This one!

She still has the spirit of adventure as she’s zip-lined over rainforests in Mexico and gets out on the snowmobile after the yards of snow from a Polar Vortex! I won’t tell you her age, because it’s just a number she certainly doesn’t look or act! She has taught me to live life without regrets!! And I have learned from her that making memories is more important than making money. I’ve realized I’m a lot more like her than I realized! Well, I can’t ski (yet). She’s been a great support and encourages me as well as her other grandchildren! She also has inspired me as she served her husband who battled cancer for over 6 years. She suffered with him, and labored with love to provide him the comfort and nourishment he needed. When he passed last year, she has courageously found strength to keep finding joy in life and share it with those around her.

Third, my step mom, Jackie!! She is a fun, inspiring, hard-working, and super strong woman!  Seriously, she's probably superwoman.  I have learned so much from her over the years and I am so thankful for her friendship & support!  She has been a wonderful wife to my father and a great example to his 3 kids!  And pretty sure no one would believe me when I tell you about the adventures she has done.  She's brave, hardcore, and totally classy!

I am thankful that she has shared her spirit of adventure with me and has even brought me along on a couple! ...And was always there to make sure I was prepared for whatever challenges were ahead.  I love her cooking and as a woman, she definitely showed me that there were no limitations as she has completed challenging races up mountains.  Did I tell you she was hardcore?  She's stronger than any man I know.  An engineer by trade should tell you how smart she is.  And, she is also loads of fun.

                       

Finally, my best friend, my anchor, and the woman who has been there for me since even before our DNA formed together in the womb: my twin sister. Some people who know us might wonder if we are friends at all; they know that we can drive each other crazy. But, in reality my sister is the window to my soul. I rely on her when I have doubts, when I lack confidence, when I’m struggling to figure out my life (that’s pretty much always) and she selflessly listens and encourages me. I can helplessly dump my burdens at her feet when she is struggling to sift through her own and she carefully sorts through them with me and gives me the strength to carry on. I’ve seen her become a mother and experience the joy, the exhaustion, the surprise, the frustration, the pain, and the recognition that she is doing something greater than herself. She inspires me as she has sacrificed EVERYTHING for her children; her career in order to stay at home to teach Evelyn to write, read, and even play piano, her interests for those of children’s books, glittery crafts (that usually end with more glitter dumped on the floor than on the project), and the dreaded barbie movie she’s probably seen 297 trillion times, and her body as she has endured two pregnancies and births without anesthetics, nursed two tricky babies with lip-ties making it painful and tedious, and all the exhaustion that comes with raising, entertaining, feeding, and loving two children. She has sacrificed her life in order to teach her children that they are loved, that they have a purpose, and that they are special. I know she feels inadequate, I know she feels imperfect and I know she struggles to see the fruit of her efforts, but she inspires me and I am humbled and speechless at the mission she is fulfilling. There are really no words to describe my admiration for her. I would have fallen apart without my sister.

Yes, I am sleeping on her butt.
And yes, we are both too lazy to take off our glasses.
(In my defense, I was in denial that I would actually fall asleep. 
But, when you have a butt as a pillow...)

that’s her husband on the left…
who is really the 3rd wheel?

She has planned a wedding, discovered the mysteries of pregnancy and child bearing, and has fought through the challenges of life independently without a mother to guide her. She has overcome so much and has taught me the power of endurance and strength. Although she has struggled with physical problems since birth, she is one of the strongest woman I know. I am so grateful we kind of look a like and have the same DNA. Being a twin is a blessing from God.

we went through a phase...

Fourth, the many women who taught me, encouraged me, motivated me, and led me: my church leaders, teachers, family, and friends! I lost my mom when I was 11. So, this day should suck. And sometimes it does; that feeling of longing or what ifs is always imminent. BUT, I have been super blessed with wonderful women and surrogate mother’s in my life that make me grateful. These were women who loved and cared, because it was their tendency regardless if I was family or not. The many mothers I have met surely feel that they fall short from day to day, but I hope you know that your contributions are valued and important and essential to the progress of society. I admire every mother! Although I only had my mother for 11 years of my life I learned from her that you do not have to be a perfect mother to be cherished by your children. There will be bumps in the road. But, mothers are Saints. Mothers are angels. I’m still learning lessons from my mother as I strive to live a life that would make her proud. I am thankful that I know she loves me and I am even more thankful for the hope that I’ll see her again. Mothers are eternal!!


Happy Mother’s Day!!


One of my favorite messages to mothers: “Because, She is a Mother” - Elder Holland

(I encourage you to read the entire transcript!)

and if you really want to be inspired: http://motherhood.mormon.org/?cid=HPTH050814094

#itwasmom

Okay, I do have to mention how we celebrated it here in Taiwan!!
Here are some of the projects I did with the kids: I took their pictures for a flowery Mother's Day Card!

He just happens to be a twin. 

And them made cards, crafts, and crazies
and glued their pictures inside!

These kids are 4 & 5 and writing! They obviously have great mothers!!

GREEN IS THE COLOR OF HAPPINESS!

So, I should probably stop letting the adventures fly by without first attempting to chronicle the awesomeness. I’ll try to catch up, but just know that Taiwan is the place to go if you want to pretend you have the coolest life in the world.

For example, when I run in the mornings, or in the afternoons, or even for that matter when I’m just walking downtown, I feel like Rocky. (seriously, people want to take my picture. I can't decide if it's because I'm white, a girl, or I have a ridiculously large booger hanging out of my nose.)

(This was a legit 10k for church…please ignore the sweaty mess I am, it's pretty much normal.)

Picture Rocky II but in Taiwan (so no American flags…and me with a whole lot less muscle. (Wow, flashbacks to high school…no, I’m not that old…but, what does every band play 200 trillion times during the 4th quarter of the football game, hello.)

People look up from their fields, onion chucking, porches, scooters whatever and yell, smile, and wave AND I feel like I could sucker punch Putin in the face. Literally, when I get back in the mornings the kids want to tackle me or hug me and I’m nasty and gross and drowning in sweat and really just need to shower. Isn’t that great about kids! I don’t have to shower, wear makeup, do my hair, and I could wear a rainbow outfit to class and THEY’D STILL THINK I WAS THE BEE’s KNEES!! (I still shower…sometimes)

Anyways, this super-star ego boost inspired an adventurous 3-day weekend in April to Taiwan’s Green island! And since every weekend in Taiwan has been magical, we decided to take a 3 am train south to catch a boat to explore Taiwan’s Green Island. At first, I thought it would be fun to go somewhere international, but our boss handled all the arrangements for us. So, in the end EASY won and although in my mind I had envisioned castaway (just w/o Tom Hanks - otherwise, I'd be all up for it!) I finally adopted the: “what’s the worst that could happen?” philosophy. And seriously, the odds weren’t terribly discouraging: We find a volleyball and I can finally swim well enough to do a triathlon. Bring it on, Castaway.

After a sleepless night, we arrived at the port at sunrise (3 am train and all) and made some new English-speaking friends who were also waiting on a boat! As people started to crowd in, our anticipation grew! I was surprised at how many foreigners there were. I realized I might have slightly underestimated this island as fellow English-Teachers enthusiastically praised the scenes we would soon be enjoying. But, first, we had to brave the barge.

Minutes before the barf barge.

And, I’ll just paraphrase the next part for the faint-hearted. No matter what that boat was Christened and how lovely it might have been, it is now and will forever be immortalized in my memory as the “barf barge.” I thought mornings were a descent time to travel on the ocean. WRONG. There might have been 3 out of at least 100 people who managed to not waste their breakfast that morning…if you know what I’m saying. Thankfully, it wasn’t stinky. AND, I have a new found respect for Magellan, Columbus, Darwin, American Pilgrims, penguins stuck on a floating/shrinking piece of ice caused by global warming, etc. We were only on the boat for like 50 minutes. Thankfully we found a great spot next to an experienced Buddhist native who had made the trip many times. (He was one of the 3.) He told us the trick was to stare at the horizon, but the WaVeS wErE sO cHoPpY and the BOat was SO boUNcy that it was nearly impossible. At first it was kind of humorous (maybe, I’m a little sadistic) to watch the people drop like flies or run to the bathroom. AND THEN, I. WANTED. TO. DIE. I almost jumped into the port when our boat stopped I was so ready to get on land again.

But then I beheld what they meant by Green Island or as I’d like to state in my most favorite colored cliche ever: The Emerald Isle! (Please say with as much fanfare mixed with mystery, and your arms must do the flare thing) My amazement increased exponentially and I was completely recovered by the time we met this adorable guy, our bed and breakfast host. Although he might have really been looking for any Laura, we took our chances and followed him, anyway.

Any Laura - Follow Me!

And the other Lauras missed out, because he was the real deal. He found us electric bikes, the most adorable scuba diving instructor, and even introduced us to the local pet reindeer. Oh, and then there was the time when he actually found us when our electric bikes stopped working (2x).

How about we turn this into an electric bike!

Let's just share our breakfast with the reindeer.

SO, we went right into exploration mode. Basically Green Island is the Australia of Taiwan just without kangaroos and 200 trillion times smaller. It was where the Taiwanese exiles were sent. You could probably bike (electric, unless you’re Lance Armstrong and taking steroids…it’s mountainous) around the island in 2 hours unless you are ADD like us and have to stop at every tree that’s green or every rock that kind of looks like it’s made of stone, or whenever the waves wave…

It was pretty much my dream vacation - a tropical island, hot springs, hiking, biking (don't be fooled, an electric bike battery doesn't last forever…), meeting people from all over the world, and great food! We discovered waterfalls, lagoons, and baby mountain goats!! (Do yourself a favor and watch Buttermilk the goat on youtube right now) Oh, and we went snorkeling! The reefs were stunningly beautiful and the fish were wild!

Any friends that are secretly con-artists? Can you possibly include me on your next gig? I would seriously rob a bank to get sent here. Or Australia…

So, yes there was a natural hot springs, caves (so naturally, spelunking happened), and we hiked up beautiful waterfalls only to discover even more enchanting hidden waterfalls! And just about every where we went we made new friends from China, India, Singapore, Indonesia, Germany, the States, and EVEN UKRAINE (technically he was living in the Netherlands, but we totally spoke some Russian at dinner and freaked everyone out! Mostly because they feel like I do that PUTIN IS INSANE. I should have a blog dedicated to the idiocy of that man.)

Enjoy some pictures that inadequately capture the bliss to be found on this island.

Oh, I didn't mention this charming little light house.

Sleeping Beauty Rock! Hint: Her head is attached to the island.

SO, yeah. Rule # 3,782 to enjoy life: Live it Up!

There was still so much to do, but we had barge #2 to take back. We decided to stay on top of the boat and experience the fresh air. It was the middle of the afternoon, and it turned into a photo session with students on break and friends from other far away countries. AND NO ONE THREW UP!! I AM NOW MASTER OF THE SEA!

I still need to mention that time we turned a charter bus into a karaoke bus…and didn’t stop for 4 hours. Oh, and earthquakes - I’m so clueless.

But, let’s just all take a moment to relish in the pulchritude (P WORD OF THE MONTH!!) of the color GREEN!

Our sunrise adventure (and electric bike failure!)

World, Have a great week!

Odious Ode to Women

So, I admit...I'm not the proudest woman in the world.  I sometimes complain because my ovaries hate me and that I have to shave basically my entire body or my bra is poking. I deem it unfair that ladies, who are so friendly and full of love have to suffer for 9 months carrying around a parasite that eventually grows to the size of a watermelon only then to be exhumed from a crying uterus. BUT, I'll stop the grotesque... (although if you are a male and think that you could defy the distress of a woman by debating your manly suffering, BRING IT ON.)

Look! It's a cute little cuddly uterus pillow! And it's on sale!

That is not the purpose of this post.
I have been humbled. AND am proud of the many womanly things that I can do that a man has generally no right to, unless he wishes to live in contempt as I will most likely judge him.

Exhibit A.

Painting my nails.  I just bought a fabulous new nail polish and I'm so thrilled!  Sure, I didn't budget the $9 and the hour it took to apply it might have been in vain if it only lasts for 2 days before it starts chipping which then I'll have to spend another 30 minutes removing it completely with a cotton swab, or toilet paper that shreds, if I've run out...BUT, it is a fascinating shade of shimmery gold that makes me feel magical. 

B.

Jewelry.  I am addicted to earrings.  I have pairs from all around the world and they make for an excellent conversation starter (if they draw the compliments that I wear them for ;)).  BUT, seriously, they can jazz up any old boring outfit.  And even if I'm dressed in a t-shirt, I can put on a simple pair of earrings and still feel as if I have class.  (unless it's one of those free college t-shirts...not even earrings can help those.)

C.

Makeup.  Alright, I'm also disregarding the time, money, skill, and technique that this requires in order to say that mascara and eyeliner can turn my sleep deprived face into a 'pretend I'm a responsible employable smart person'!  And when you add eyeshadow, some foundation, and some lip gloss, I've got myself a hot date!  (Even if it's only going to the grocery store...by myself...at least everyone else can assume otherwise!)

because we all know this
is a good look for me!

D.

I can totally cuddle with my best friend and tell her she's beautiful and even dance with her.  Unless your best friend is a female, sorry boys...it's likely you'll be judged (Unless you live in Georgia (the country)! Those men have no qualms embracing their bromance-masculinity.)

E.

Wear skirts and/or wear pants.  Preface this by saying, life would be more fair if we could just wear sweat pants everywhere, but since I am no longer in college or in a field where this is reasonably allowed, I have found a dazzling array of colorful skirts can brighten the gloom of having to get dressed like a normal person.  However, if skirts still seem to lack appeal, as they do somedays, I can just as easily find a good pair of pants from the recesses of my closet.  That's right...I can wear pants, skirts, dresses, shorts, capris, bermudas...it can get overwhelming.  But, I'm thankful for diversity!

because we all know the only kind of skirt we really want to wear...even you guys.

EE.  ALSO, Heels.  Who hasn't wanted to be 3 inches taller...and pretend they are excellent at balancing on their toes.

HOLY AWESOME BATMAN!!
I know these make even some of you guys jealous! 

F. Blame it all on PMS.
Sorry guys. When you have a bad day...it just sucks. If I do...It's because life said so and I will be normal on Monday...or after ice cream and chocolate.

wouldn't this be better if it just stopped at kissing...?

Internet memes justify anything!!

SO, although it's not easy all the time, I can put on some dangly earrings, paint my nails, find a fancy skirt and get away with murder....and then enjoy a nice bowl of ice cream.

It's good to be a girl!