Ten Things I'm Thankful For

1) Pizza for Thanksgiving. Not your traditional meal, but very tasty! Basil pesto pizza topped with peppers and tomatoes from my local farmer's market made this a delicious feast indeed!

2) Warm blankets. I'll be able to turn on the heat soon (I hope). In the mean time, I'm enjoying bundling up nice and warm under my grandmother's handmade quilt!

3) Make Your Own Burrito Night with my roommate. Even though neither of us were able to go home for Thanksgiving, we've been having a blast and a culinary extravaganza.

4) The library! I now have multiple books on tape for my drive to and from work; plenty of books I've been waiting months to read, and a huge selection of DVDs to choose from.

5) My laptop. I can take classes online, write parent brochures for work, keep in touch with my friends and family, and watch movies.


6) Trains. Less crazy than a Greyhound, they are a money saving way to get home. I love seeing all the great scenery, and not having to worry about driving through traffic heavy cities.


7) Family. I have a very supportive and loving family, and I can't wait to see them at Christmas!

8) Steady work. Sure, AmeriCorps doesn't pay a lot, but the experience is priceless, and the comfort of knowing that I have a stable income is a huge relief.

9) Working with little kids. I love every child I work with, and they make life so much more interesting. In what other field do you go from cuddling three one year olds on your lap as you read them a story to teaching a kid how to cut with scissors? Where else can you hear such memorable quotes as, "I had to concentrate when my mom got the bugs out of my hair?"

10) Life. The possibilities that each day bring, and the opportunity to direct my life's path in any direction I choose.

I Hereby Abandon my Pepper Spray to the Crown

Evidently pepper spray is a prohibited weapon in Canada. Never mind the fact that it successfully journeyed on numerous chicken buses throughout Guatemala and Nicaragua, and all the way down to Panama, crossing countless borders with barely a blip. Canadian customs officials simply cannot abide the presence of pepper spray in Canada.

As a result of carrying a tiny can of pepper spray, I was questioned three times, and had to fill out two forms to "abandon" my pepper spray to the Crown. What, exactly, is the Crown going to do with it, I'd like to know?

I can procur another can easily enough. It's just $7 down at the local outdoor outfitter. I'll just miss this last can---the countless hours I spent with it clutched in my sweaty palm, walking to work through catcalls past "bars" (AKA fronts for prostitution). It's the can I gripped as I escaped from a overly zealous suitor through the streets of Xela. It's the spray I contemplated using when I was trapped in an taxi cab with two vaguely threatening men, and that offered me a bit of confidence as I walked down the heavily guarded Panamanian streets. That pepper spray saw me through some interesting times.

Goodbye, pepper spray. Goodbye, old friend.

Pajama Vacation

This last few weeks have been crazy. I spent half of July packing up my life in Washington and moving back to Minnesota. Now I am trying to catch up with all of my friends and relatives, finish up all of the loose ends that moving entails, and repack for my move to North Carolina.

It's time for a Pajama Vacation. Two days of lazing around the house, reading good books, watching bad television, and doing absolutely nothing productive. Massive amounts of Spider Solitaire may be played, and generous servings of chocolate are consumed. Bliss!

Never Laugh While Eating Soup

It just doesn't end well.

I love my land lady. Her whole family came up for a birthday celebration, with plenty of Vietnamese food. She invited me along, and even cooked vegetarian Pha for me. Isn't she sweet?
Her family is hilarious, by the way. We were all eating our soup with chopsticks, and then they'd say the most random thing and disaster would occur: soup everywhere. It's not so easy to get Pha out of long, thick hair. It doesn't do much for make-up either. Maybe it's the newest moisturizer?

A girl can dream.

It's Going to Be a Frugal Week

Don't you hate when your checking balance is nearing zero? It's the week before payday, and rent and car repair bills have come due, leaving very little money in my account. It's nothing too horrid---if any emergencies come up, I can use my credit card, and I have a full pantry. It's just a little nerve-wracking right now, wondering if anything worrisome is going to come up---a last minute bill? My grandpa suddenly taking a turn for the worse, causing me to have to buy a sudden plane ticket home?

I have some money tucked away for emergencies, but it is truly tucked away: it would take me three days to access it. It's meant to form the basis of my retirement account, but it also provides a little cushion in case an emergency comes up. I would just hate to decimate that account. It took me a year to build it up, working for minimum wage (or less).

Here's hoping everything works out!

Still Sick

This has been a rough few weeks. After feeling absolutely exhausted for two weeks, I finally made it in to the doctor. An hour's wait later, I was diagnosed with bronchitis and an ear infection. While certainly not fun, it's great to finally have an explanation for my tiredness.

It's been two more weeks, and I'm still not feeling all that great. I still occasionally fall asleep at five in the afternoon, and only wake up when my alarm goes off in the morning. Maybe it's time for another doctors visit.

I'm lucky to have really good insurance. The cost of doctors visits are negligible. I hate to think what will happen when I reach twenty-five and am off my family's insurance policy---hopefully I'll have a good job by then (I guess living on a volunteer's living stipend won't be an option anymore). Monthly medication costs for depression meds are astronomical---nearly two hundred dollars without insurance. Going without them is not an option---it's just miserable, and not conducive to holding a steady job and living in any reasonably fulfilling way.

In the meantime, I will volunteer as much as possible, and try to discover my life's calling (that sounds so corny!) Hopefully I'll figure it all out soon.

The Delta Site Hates Me

The Delta site hates me. That's the only conclusion I can draw. Not only did it try to make me rebook twice, but it wickedly raised the price each time! I could understand the rate hike from $295 to $330. I could only find $330 fares on the web, so it wasn't such a shocker. But then to raise it by $100 while I was booking it? That's just ridiculous. A flight doesn't go up $130 in ten minutes.

I guess I can't rule out a train trip home just yet, as much as I'd like to. I managed to wrangle a week off, and I want to spend as much of the time I have off with my family. Thirty-five hours on the train each way is not what I call fun.

I know I've got to get home soon---my grandpa's ill, and our whole family is gathering for a wedding. I can't miss this time with them, but I hate the feeling that I'm being taken advantage of.

A Room (or House) of Her Own

For nearly a week I will have the house to myself. I have a copy of "The Stepford Wives" to watch before I post it on swapadvd.com, a stack of library books, and a fridge full of vegan food. I even have two days off from work!

This will be heavenly. I'll have the complete freedom to watch what I want, eat when I'd like, and come and go as I please. It's a tiny thing, but so important.

I haven't had this level of independence and freedom since I got back from Guatemala. I know that it's just one of the tradeoffs of living back at home again, but it can be a little tough after awhile. I just never expected to be living with my parents while I worked at Walmart to pay off student loan interest. It sounds like an undergrad horror story---graduating in debt and without job prospects.

It's not that I don't love my parents. I do. They are incredible! My dad taught my sisters and I how to use power tools and change the brakes on the car, and then turned around and taught us how to cook and sew. He's a true Renaissance Man. My mom is a teacher up on a Native American Reservation, and is always helping out people in need, whether they be complete strangers or good friends. I remember her picking up hitchhikers a few times---once a family with two little boys whose car broke down on the side of a deserted highway, and once a twenty year old woman whose boyfriend pushed her out of the car at an intersection. If she knows of a family that's having a tough time financially, she'll find a discreet way to help them out.

Though I really love my family, it's been a difficult adjustment. I lived independently for so long, 1,500 miles and two countries away, that I grew used to having a little more space and freedom. Somehow, it's been a little difficult to accustom myself to answering where I'll be at any given time and when I'll get home at night. I love that they're concerned, but I need a little space, and their confidence that I won't do anything too crazy.

This is going to be a great week.

Teaching English in South Korea

I have a telephone interview to teach English in South Korea this week. This is moving fast. I'm a little nervous, to be totally truthful. It doesn't help that the mere mention of South Korea throws several of my relatives into a tailspin. I've had several ultimatums issued over the last few weeks, warning me not to go under any circumstances. Even my therapist thinks I'm crazy.

I don't know why I'm drawn to troubled places. Rather than seeking a nice, calm internship in the local public school, I tutored children on a Native American reservation, where a fourth grader stabbed a security guard and we had numerous lockdowns. I guess I just figure that wherever I go, trouble seems to follow, so I might as well go somewhere challenging, somewhere I can actually make a difference. I can't even ride the Amtrak without being sexually harassed by my seatmate; it seems inevitable that my life won't be calm and serene. Why not just embrace that fact?

Amtrak

I just bought my Amtrak ticket to Washington. It ended up being just over $200. This is a little more than I would have liked, but I really need to see my family. A plane ticket would have cost nearly twice that, and a bus ticket was only $40 less.

Given that I will leave in the middle of the night, I feel more comfortable going by Amtrak than by bus. The bus station in my departure city is in a pretty bad part of town. I once got followed there by three twenty year olds in a car while I was walking from a Vietnamese market to the bank. I got into my car just seconds before they were at my door. I definitely do not want to repeat that experience.

I can't leave my car there, so I'm going to have my uncle drop me off. I don't want my grandma driving me over there that late at night. I'll be carrying mace, just to be doubly safe.

I've never ridden on Amtrak before. This should be fun!

Summer Goals

These are my goals for this summer.

1. Finish my American Literature course.


2. Read three classics.


3. Apply to Americorps.


4. Move my sister down to Missouri.


5. Travel independently to Washington, D.C.


6. Secure a laptop.


7. Apply to teach English in Asia.


8. Get my ADD under control.


9. Retrieve my suitcase from Guatemala (somehow!)


10. Go canoeing and rowing once a month.


11. Organize my room---clear out all the boxes and find my iTunes card!


12. Learn French and Italian with Live Mocha.


13. Continue proofreading for Project Gutenberg.


14. Find an international bank for future jobs abroad.


15. Get an inexpensive iPod online.
16. Find a summer job!

My Guatemalan Family

I hate to make it seem like Guatemala was just a scary place. There were so many great parts about Guatemala. My sweet host grandmother, who literally sprinted to the language school the day I got lost, taught me how to make tamales and wash my clothes by hand to save money. My host mother was so loving, and she helped me find a job to sponsor my stay in Guatemala. She let me pay by the week or the month, depending on whether my workplace had enough money to pay me that week.

My host family included me in all of the family celebrations---I got to be the photographer at my little sister's first birthday and baptism. They let me help prepare the traditional dishes, and then taught me to dance Marimba. They were incredibly sweet and kind.

The grandfather made me tea when I was sick, and taught me traditional Mayan cures for illnesses.

My Guatemalan host family made me feel as though I belonged. They included me, and taught me so much about Guatemala. Regardless of what else happened, they were always there for me, and for that I am forever grateful.