Working Hard or Hardly Workin'

I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say that most people are wondering what I actually DO here.  At the beginning of my ‘move’ I was excited about the prospect of finding a job in Tel Aviv, and putting my skills to use and hopefully making a meager salary to pay for travel expenses.  Lo and behold…just as my mom predicted…that has not happened.

During my first week in Tel Aviv I got a false sense of how easy it would be to find a job (and was really excited to prove Mom wrong).  I found a job-posting site for foreigners in Israel and sent my resume to a few companies.  I surprisingly got a call back from one of them and was called in to an interview. 

I was offered a marketing position on the spot, but was a little taken aback by their quick to move offer.  Given my experience in the ‘professional world’ in the U.S., I had certain expectations about the standard procedures of a job offer – job description, salary, company policies, hours of work, etc.  When I couldn’t seem to get a clear answer on the things that I deemed commonplace, I moved on.  Although I may have been a little picky in this circumstance, the short story is “I didn’t think it was a good fit.”  Since then, I haven’t had so much luck on the job front.

However, that’s not to say that I’m not working…or doing anything with my time.  I find that it’s quite the opposite actually.  “With what?” you might ask.  Well, first off…these blog posts don’t write themselves.  And because I’m the truest definition of a perfectionist, it takes significantly more time than I’m sure it would for the average person to pump out a few paragraphs and pictures.

In addition to this blog, I’ve maintained my Hebrew studies – 2 hours a day, 5 days a week in class, and usually another 2-3 hours of studying per day.  Today marked my last day of the “Level 3” course, which means that I can now successfully say, “I want tomatoes and hummus on my pita, please,”  and a variety of other useful (and not so useful) phrases.  I mean…who really needs to know how to say, “A bus flipped over on the Ivory Coast” three months into studying a new language??

My homemade Hebrew flashcards

And as my Hebrew has improved, I’ve been able to start helping more and more in the boy’s business as well.  It’s definitely refreshing to be back in a business environment – analyzing numbers, creating Excel spreadsheets (like a true nerd), strategizing and planning, and reviewing tools and systems to help with operations and sales. 

Even though my lack of Hebrew can be a major handicap (and quite frustrating) when I’m trying to read documents or communicate with employees, helping in his business has also given me some major “Hebrew breakthroughs.”  I’m now able to type in Hebrew (not as fast as English…but I’m getting there!), and can understand much more of the conversations I listen to in the office.

The more interesting part of the work I’ve been doing, however, has turned out to be the things that I wouldn’t have ever considered as my strengths.  I’m now editing videos, trying to learn PhotoShop, working on the website, learning SEO, and reading about employment laws (okay…admittedly the last one isn’t quite as much fun). 

AND in exchange for all this hard work, I’ve cut a deal for free private dance lessons.  (Oh…did I mention that the boy in fact has a dance studio and performance group?  Mostly breakdance and hip hop – FUN - I know!)  Thus far I’ve gotten way better at editing videos than spinning on my head (not at all), but seeing as how I’m not 18 anymore, I’ll take what my mind and body can give!

This is...obviously not me.

Recently I reflected at my increasingly busy days, and wondered where all the time is going…undeniably with some thought as to whether I’ll have enough time to take advantage of the beach this summer (the answer is…no matter what, I’ll MAKE time!). 

As my 'work' begins to take shape (in terms of projects, goals, responsibilities), the lines between ‘work and home’ and ‘work and play’ are becoming blurred.  Ideas are constantly on my mind, I'm jotting down notes or making small changes, or getting occupied with projects until the wee hours of the morning. 

Time management is a challenge for many of us…how do we choose to spend the few precious hours in our day (and life)?  When do we decide there’s something important enough at work that we must finish it at the expense of our personal lives?  And when do we put our personal lives – dinner with your spouse, your daughter’s birthday party, or your weekend trip to Napa – above that report that’s due on Monday morning?

Believe me that as I’m writing this I’m struggling with these issues myself…I don’t have it all figured out.   I don’t have the answer.  I might not be working for a salary, I might not have a boss to answer to…but I do have to answer to myself.  And usually that’s my harshest critic.  My only ‘advice’ today is to remember that life is precious, your time is a gift, and you have the blessing of doing with it what you choose.

Do More With Less

I plopped down in front of the T.V. for my mid-morning snack of toast with peanut butter.  (Unfortunately, it’s Skippy peanut butter and not JIF…my mom was always a choosy mom.)  But I quickly found out that television was not going to happen today.  It’s Memorial Day here in Israel, and let’s just say that it is celebrated very differently than in the States…although I don’t think “celebrated” is the proper term to use. 

In fact, as a day of remembrance for fallen soldiers, “celebration” is strictly forbidden.  Last night at 7:00, all businesses, stores, and restaurants closed.  If you didn’t already have food at home then I hope you weren’t hungry because you wouldn’t be able to pop into your local corner store. 

All T.V. channels pause broadcast on Memorial Day

I was told you’re not allowed to play music, or to have your business open, or you could be fined.  Additionally, the T.V. channels all show blank screens that state it is for Memorial Day, and broadcasting will resume at 8:00 this evening.  There was a siren this morning, signaling everybody to stop what they’re doing and give a moment of silence.  Although I wasn’t on the road…I hear that cars stop, even on the freeways. 

Actually, I was also in Israel last year (on the Hebrew calendar) during Memorial Day, but I think my memories were overshadowed by the Independence Day celebration (which is the day after), and the last few days of travel with my cousin, Robin.  It's interesting to be here again, under a different circumstance, experiencing these holidays again.

On a completely unrelated subject…now that Passover is over, I’ve begun to experiment with my cooking again.  I will admit that there are additional challenges I face here, in no particular order:

1. Two electric burners rather than a big gas stove
2. Grocery shopping – I can never read the labels for the things I want to buy to know if it is in fact what I’m looking for
3. Decreased variety of brands and products
4. The brands and products that I can find are usually imported, and significantly more expensive than they would be in the States.  Case in point – a 10 oz. bottle of soy sauce was about $6.50 USD.
5. We have a mini-fridge with a small freezer cabinet, rather than a regular sized refrigerator
6. No dishwasher = hand wash every utensil, dish, pot and pan

As a result of these differences, the good news is that I’ve become much more creative with my cooking.  I’ve learned to boil my water in the tea kettle heater before using it to cook pasta so that it doesn’t take too long to heat on the burners.  We did a major IKEA run (bless them) to maximize the space in the kitchen, I use chicken as a frequent substitute for pork, and I’ve learned to mix and match sauces and flavors to get closer to what I want – even if I can’t find it already bottled at the store. 

Just last week I recreated Za Jiang Mien, a ‘recipe’ that I copied down while visiting my grandfather’s friend in Texas a few months ago.  It was a labor of love, but with a few substitutes and a lot of patience, I finally got something that was stomach-able.  I’m not often proud of my cooking…but this was actually pretty tasty.

My bowl when we ate Za Jiang Mien in Texas

Wang Yeh Yeh dishing up noodles

Recreating Za Jiang Mien in Israel - with a few substitutions

Life doesn’t always hand you everything in a perfect Kikkoman soy sauce bottle, so it’s important to learn how to substitute and make do with what you have.  Today I challenge you to pick something in your life that isn’t exactly as you’d like it to be – whether it’s a broken heater but you need heat, a job that’s not perfect, or a cake that needs to be baked but you don’t have sugar – find a way to fulfill the need with the things you have at your disposal.  And if it’s the latter…try not to go all “The True Story of the Three Little Pigs” on me… J

Za Jiang Mien (from...Texas?)

Technically I stumbled upon this "recipe" in Texas, although it is a Chinese dish.   I was there visiting my grandfather's childhood friend, and he was whipping up a typical lunch.  It was clear that cooking was an art to him, and not a science.  As such, I watched his every move and the ingredients he added, without asking for amounts or temperatures.  Much like when I recreated this dish in Israel, do what you can with what you have.  :)

Prepare the vegetables/toppings:

Slice finely and blanche:

• Carrots
• Celery
• Bean sprouts (pick ends off first)
• Cucumbers (don't blanche)
• Edamame (optional).

Cook the meat sauce:

Put olive oil and a lot of finely chopped green onions into a frying pan.  Add ground pork and split apart with chopsticks or a spatula.  Add soy sauce.  Then add chicken broth and let it boil down a bit.  Then add superior dark soy sauce.  In a small bowl or mug, mix a bit of flour and water and then add the mixture to the meat sauce, stirring to thicken.  Let it cook a bit more.

Cook the noodles:

Typically, you use a thick wheat noodle.  I've also had it with dried Chinese noodles, or most recently I used egg noodles (because that's what I could find!).

Set the table and serve!  Fill your bowl with noodles, then add your condiments and top with the meat sauce.  Enjoy!

Please Sir, I Want Some More

Waiting in the grocery checkout line for 13 minutes to buy bread is not something I would typically tolerate.  But, as my options are limited, I’m willing to make adjustments (I know…how big of me, right?). 

Passover in Israel has (finally) just ended, and after a week without bread and pasta, I’m willing to go to extraordinary lengths to get my fill of wheat products…if you call waiting in line for 13 minutes an extraordinary length.  But as the ‘ban’ on leavened products was lifted yesterday evening, the only bad news was that by that time most stores were closing for Shabbat.  Thus, my extra-long search to find bread today. 

When I woke up longing for a peanut butter sandwich, I hurriedly walked to the nearby corner shops (the two that are open on Shabbat), only to find out that they don’t sell bread.  So I took a longer stroll to the only grocery store that was open in the neighborhood.  It was packed with people, and the bread section had already been well picked over, some bags of pita even having been torn through and left with only a few pieces.  I carefully selected a full bag of pita bread, pasta and couscous and then waited patiently to pay so I could walk home with my bag of goodies.

You might wonder why I would participate in Passover observance if I’m not Jewish.  Well, first off, I didn’t have too much of a choice.  I was rather surprised to find out that stores won’t even sell any products with leavening during Passover.  At the beginning of the week when we went grocery shopping, there were huge pieces of white plastic wrap covering the products that were forbidden to purchase – bread, flour, seasonings, cereal, pasta, condiments, soups, etc. Towards the end of the week, however, some of the plastic wrap had been torn a bit, peeked behind, or removed – which made all the grocery stores look completely disheveled.  I assumed people were ‘breaking’ under the pressure and removing the plastic wrap to get to their coveted, ‘can’t-live-without’ products.  But I quickly found out that wasn’t the case.

Covering up the non-kosher food items

I picked up a stray package that resembled a mushroom soup base from a bin at the end of an aisle, and continued to pick out fruit, vegetables and potatoes (ugh…more potatoes).  When I went to check out, the gal at the register couldn’t scan my mystery mushroom soup.  She proceeded to tell me since it wasn’t registering, it wasn’t a kosher product and she couldn’t sell it to me. 

The grocery stores fooled me.  I thought their idea to “cover it in plastic wrap” was a poor attempt to keep people from buying non-kosher products.  Let’s be real…nobody here would abide by that if they really wanted what was behind “door #3”.  But they’d outsmarted me, and also removed the UPCs from registering on their computer systems.  Touché, supermarkets.  You win.

The second, and more important reason, I chose to stick to Passover kosher foods was because I’ve been trying to adopt the “when-in-Rome” mentality.  Since I’m trying my hardest to fit in here, and adapt to this culture, I am trying to respect their holidays, traditions, and practices.  So although I could have pulled the uncooked pasta out of the back of the cabinet, I chose to refrain.  (Admittedly, we weren’t completely kosher – because you’re supposed to remove any food with leavening from your house, but I just can’t throw out and waste something that’s still perfectly good to eat in a week!!)

Plus, a week without bread and pasta meant I’d have to expand my horizons a bit, get outside my comfort zone (as if I’m not already), try some different things, and have a greater appreciation for products with leavening when I got them back.  But I must admit that the hardest part of my “non-wheat” week has been the inconvenience…typically my ‘cooking’ consists of pasta, or salad (with pasta in it to make it more substantial), or sandwiches.  My breakfasts consist of yogurt, or fruit, but almost always toast with peanut butter.  And when I’m on the go and need something fast, I usually buy a slice of pizza or falafel in pita bread.  So the no-wheat thing pretty much ruled out my normal routine.

Trying to copy Mom and Grandma's recipe

Luckily, Easter fell within Passover so I was inspired by my own traditions of deviled eggs and potato salad.  But the novelty of potatoes quickly wore off – hash browns, baked potatoes, thinly sliced and fried chips, diced and boiled in salads.  So last night, after the sun fell, I was quite content to be reunited with my toast and peanut butter. 

Breaking the bread fast...with PB!

And....(gasp) McDonald's...

SO happy to have a burger with REAL bread!

Although it’s a far cry from the same place, this week brought back fond memories of my time in Isandlwana, South Africa.  Sometimes it’s good to go without the luxuries and conveniences you’re used to.  If for no other reason, it definitely makes you appreciate them more. 

I challenge you to ‘go without’ for a few days.  Give up something you enjoy – whether it’s that precious daily stop at Starbucks that’s become routine rather than special, or your addiction to YouTube that’s got you feigning for the next version of “Jimmy Kimmel – I told my kids I at their Halloween candy” (which is amazing, I must admit).  And hopefully once you’ve gone without for a few days, then you’ll appreciate it more when you have it back.  And if you don’t….then you should probably spend your time and money elsewhere anyway! J

The Gift of Giving

I'm going to pull a little Marty McFly here and go back in time.  Last year, towards the end of my trip around the world, I had some phenomenal experiences that I never blogged about.  Please excuse the confusion and the jumping around, but I think there are some great lessons to be learned and funny stories to share.

(Written on 5/23/2011 from Hanoi, Vietnam)

I think I have a new boyfriend.  He’s about 6 years old and adorable.  I started “teaching” in his school today and he spent the majority of the afternoon trying to move his chair next to mine, kiss me on the cheek, and hold my hand.

A few weeks ago I decided to volunteer at an orphanage in Vietnam, and was given an assignment in Hanoi.  Originally I hadn’t planned on heading north, but when the opportunity arose; I grabbed the bull by the horns and booked a flight from Ho Chi Minh City to Hanoi.  To my surprise, a friend of a friend from Seattle is living in Hanoi working for Path.  And true to the hospitable nature of all the wonderful people I’ve met, Debbie invited me on a weekend trip to Sapa with some other friends visiting from Seattle.

Catfish spring rolls at Highway 4

After Debbie shared her love of catfish spring rolls from the Highway 4 restaurant, we caught an all night train to Lao Cai (closer to the Chinese border).  As I stood in the train station, turning down a million offers to buy water, snacks, and Seaweed Pringles (which turned out to be a total failure on my part), Debbie scurried around the station looking for the guy who was supposed to exchange her vouchers for tickets that she had already purchased. 

Despite the fact that Debbie speaks fluent Vietnamese, it seemed to be a rather confusing transaction.  After multiple calls to the original travel agents, lo and behold, we found out we were at the wrong train station.  Well…we were at the right train station (same name and all), but apparently the building for north bound departures is actually on the opposite side of the tracks, and you have to take a taxi to get there.

Thankfully, we shuffled out of the taxi and through the station doors to the open air tracks just in time. I was watching carefully to see if I stumbled upon Platform 9 and ¾ because I was certain these outdated trains had to be Hogwarts bound.

Our overnight cabin

While in Sapa, we hiked, gawked at the beautiful scenery, treated ourselves to massages (for $6!), ate like queens, and spent a lot of time laughing and reminiscing about things back in the U.S.  After another long evening on a train back to Hanoi, I was about to embark on a whole new adventure…

Not exactly sure how you get "925% Silver"...

The best pho I had in Vietnam!

All the kids had little babies strapped to their backs. 

When our Harry Potter express pulled up to the Hanoi station at 5 AM, the volunteer coordinator was supposed to send a taxi to take me to the house for volunteers where I’d be staying while on my new duty.  Debbie kindly and patiently called the coordinator who called the taxi driver who was late.  When he pulled up a half hour later to take me away, we were all hoping he knew where he was going.  I said goodbye to my new friends, and crossed my fingers as I put my life in the hands of the driver.

The taxi driver wound around roads that led us outside the city and entered a side street alley, where he abruptly stopped the car, unloaded my luggage and prompted me out of the car with hand gestures.  Still in a daze from not sleeping, and without any clue where I was, I found myself speechless (shocking) and unable to mutter a word – let alone a word in Vietnamese – that would keep the driver there.  So as he zoomed off into the distance, and I stood there with my luggage pressed up against me, stranded in an early-morning fog in a deserted alley, I looked up at a gated entry to a house, and rang the doorbell…hoping that I was at the right place.

No answer.  Fabulous.  I managed to steal wifi from the University next door and I placed a Skype call (thank goodness for technology) to the volunteer coordinator.  Apparently the live-in coordinator was still sleeping, and wasn’t expecting me, so she asked if I could wait in the alley until somebody woke up.

At this point I wasn’t thrilled.  But to keep myself from going crazy, I continued to abuse the free wifi and called my family back home…who kept me awake, kept me alert, and kept me happy, until 45 minutes later when another volunteer at the house came and let me in.

I was trying to reserve any judgment about the volunteer organization until I met the kids and found out what I would be doing - but so far I wasn't too pleased with my reception, or the dingy accomodations.  At about 1:30 PM I followed two of the other volunteers to the school.  The “organizer” at the school didn’t know I was arriving, and she didn’t have any assignments for me.  She picked a classroom at random with 2 teachers and 7 kids.  She said something to the teacher in Vietnamese and then told them my name and left me there. 

Now the disappointment set in.  Let me be clear that I adore the kids – they are sweet and playful and friendly and energetic.  But, I paid for this experience to make a difference in others’ lives.  And from what I was told, developmentally challenged children frequently end up as orphans in Vietnam and are not treated well...so volunteers are valued for their mere presence, and showering the children with love and joy.

My program was advertised as volunteering in an orphanage, but I quickly came to find out that it is actually a school that has mostly (but not all) disabled children.  Their parents drop them off in the morning and pick them up in the afternoon.  The parents look loving and happy and excited to pick up their kids every day.  The kids are treated well at school and shown lots of love.  It seems like they are in a fairly affluent area  as the school is gated, and equipped with many supplies, chairs, desks, decorations, food, etc.

I’m pretty sad this volunteer experience isn’t turning out as I had hoped. Fatal error number one - having expectations. Generally I have very few expectations, and therefore am pleasantly surprised and hardly ever disappointed.  But after dropping some big money with the organization to get placed for volunteer service, I did have some expectations….for my welcoming, for my lodging, for my food, for my ability to make a contribution, and for the ability to use me as a resource in some way.

Since I can't understand the teachers or the kids, I don't feel like I'm making any impact.  I’m really just an additional body in the room.  And I’m not sure if when I’m playing with the kids they should be listening to the teachers and I'm a distraction, or whether I should continue playing with them. 

I can’t help but think that there is some organization (or multiple organizations) making a killing from international “volunteers” that are willing to pay an arm and a leg because they want to do good.  I can't speak for all organizations, because obviously there are many that have greatly helped communities in need (and I've witnessed them in action), but I don't feel like this is one of them.  The consensus amongst the other volunteers is very similar - and many are disheartened by their high hopes of making a difference in this developing country.

I've reasoned that I will give it another day to see if my time here is well spent, or if I'm better off looking for a more enriching experience.  I'm considering abandoning this effort and travelling, even though it breaks my heart to step away from an opportunity I was so excited about where I thought I'd be of help. 

Especially while travelling, the blessings in my life become ever more apparent.  And thus I feel compelled to share my blessings in some way with others - time, money, effort, etc.  But when my best of intentions falls short, or when my contribution no longer seems valuable, I question when to walk away and focus my efforts in another area. 

So my question for you today is...what blessings in your life do you share?  And do you feel that your effort is valuable?  Whether you're giving money or time or knowledge or resources, it's important that your contribution is making a difference.  I enourage you to evaluate the outcome of your giving, because your resources are valuable and limited, and you should use them wisely.  If it's not lining up with your desires, then seek a new outlet where your contribution will be appreciated and used to someone's benefit as it should be.

Catfish Spring Rolls (from Vietnam)

Compliments of Highway 4 Restaurant

I was never given an actual recipe for these spring rolls, but they seem like pretty simple, yet delicious concoctions!  My best guess...

Directions:

Fry a few small pieces of catfish.  Take a thin piece of rice paper, dab your finger in water and smooth over the sheet to wet it.  Smear on a bit of mayonnaise, add a piece of the codfish once it has cooled, and add a sprig of dill.  Then roll the rice paper up like a burrito.

Dipping sauce:

Mix 1 part hot mustard and 1 part oyster sauce.  Since this is just a guess, you can modify to taste!

Enjoy!

You Say 'Tomato', I Say 'Agvania'

Six weeks ago I started my first Hebrew class (or Ulpan as they call it here.)  I'm bound and determined to learn Hebrew and fit in as much as I can.  Sure, a lot of Israelis speak English...but it seems like they generally choose NOT to speak English (unless you're buying something from them).  That being said, in any social setting, I'm typically the outsider.

On my first day, I glided into the building on Allenby 94, looking around curiously for where exactly I was supposed to be.  After an hour long bus ride from "home" I was hoping I was in the right place.  Buses always seem like more of a challenge than they end up being.  But in a new place, I'm always nervous and fidgety despite all the research I've done about which bus to take, how far to take it, how much to pay, etc.  As I waited at the bus station, wondering if I was in the wrong place, I finally saw bus 61 bumbling down the road toward me. 

In a defensive state, to keep from unnecessary embarrassment, I paid with way more cash than I knew it would cost...so that I could get change instead of awkwardly not paying enough or not knowing what the fare was.  (Gulp...unfriendly bus drivers are the worst).  Then I meandered to the back of the bus...hoping there would be an open seat next to a friendly face.  And then I waited, checking my phone for the location every 2 minutes...wondering if I'd already missed my stop, when I knew all and well that it would be at the very least a half hour.

So an hour later, I was relieved to find the address of the building I was looking for.  I still haven't figured out how the address system works here - it seems that there are no suite #s.  Every place I know gives their street address, but not suite.  And if there are multiple buildings, entries, or offices you just have to figure out which one it is.  I have yet to figure out if there is no existing suite #?  Or if they just don't give it out.  Lacking confidence that I was in the correct building, I asked the old man tending a watch repair booth on the bottom floor for 'AACI' and luckily he understood enough to point a finger up toward the stairs.  On my first day, I wanted to be plenty early so I cruised in a half hour before class started.  Naturally, nobody else was there yet. 

Closer to 4:00 a few students rolled in and I started making conversation.  At EXACTLY 4:00 the teacher walked in.  Not a minute before, not a minute after.  How's that for timing??!

My heart filled as I settled in to the comfortable classroom and shot glances around the room at students who seemed equally, if not significantly more nervous than I.  The teacher introduced himself as Lioz, and we went around the room taking turns sharing our brief stories.  I'd spend the next 3 weeks face to face with these 5 students and teacher for 2 hours every day.

So I was relieved when I felt an instant fondness toward each one of them.  First there was Dan, an elderly gentleman, hard of hearing and hard of sight.  He hailed from Kansas, and he eagerly repeated after our teacher.  Because he couldn't hear well, he was nearly shouting, but his enthusiasm and dedication was so endearing and charming that I couldn't help but immediately smile at his presence.  Such a sweet man, bless his heart. 

And then there was June...a sprightly woman from New York.  And when I say New York...I mean NEW (you better know it) YORK!  Who cares that she left the city 14 years ago...she's carried that pride and character with her throughout the years.  She's been in Israel for over a decade, and has managed to become a successful business woman, and a great community influence, despite her limited Hebrew.  (Proof to myself that apparently you CAN survive in this country without speaking the local language).  She struck up conversation with me right away - proving herself the naturally outgoing woman I thought she'd be.

The others lingered in to the room, a few tardy pupils - lost on their first day.  A brilliant, multi-lingual young lady from France, a foreign exchange student from China, and a newly married gal from Louisiana, working in research that was far too scientifically complex for me to understand, or explain here. 

I followed along studiously in my workbook, and tried my best to repeat after Lioz with the "chhhhh" hacking pronunciation and the guttural rolling of the "r"s.  He guaranteed us it would get easier with time, and I could see the Chinese girl's mental eye roll at that statement.

 

Hebrew homework

Since that first day, I've come a long way.  And Lioz (our teacher) was right - my pronunciation has gotten significantly better, or so I'd like to think.  And our group in 'Level 1' grew a bit to include some other wonderful characters.  We bonded and became our own little Motley crew - sharing our vastly different stories and backgrounds, and appreciating the fact that they all brought us to the same little classroom.

 

Our Motley crew...including our Skype-in student, and our mascot, Pebbles

I've always been a good student (a true nerd - ask any of my high school friends) and it was refreshing and natural to be back at a desk, repeating after my teacher and noting my homework, rather than staring down a computer and punching functions into Excel.  I am so thankful for the opportunity to be a student again...to be learning and challenging myself.  I'm trying to exude "Sponge Bob" now...absorbing as much Hebrew as I can, listening to nearly incomprehensible TV, and speaking (mostly to myself) in Hebrew.

Learning isn't easy...it requires you to stretch your mind, expand your horizons, and free up brain space to accept new information.  But it's so enriching!  Today I challenge you to open yourself up to learn something new.  Sign up for that cooking class you've always wanted to take, or the computer skills course, or youtube a piano lesson on a song you've wanted to learn to play (impressively, my brother taught himself how to play piano with this method).  Whatever the commitment is, be it big or small, open yourself up to discovering something new.

In a Perfect World

There are few things that automatically brighten my morning like sun streaming through the window.  Granted, I have black out blinds (God's gift to earth...especially when in Vegas) so I have to snap the shutters open before I can see the beautiful sun.  But as soon as I do, I perk up, jump out of bed, and am ready to start my day (or afternoon as it turns out today).  Hey...it's my Saturday so I'm allowed to sleep in!

I skipped into the kitchen (the whole 2 steps away) and started to make lunch to go.  I plopped my iPod into the speakers and nodded away as Florence and the Machine brought me back to wonderful summer days with friends in Seattle at the lake, dock, cabin, or near any body of water really.

While making my sandwiches I decided to share with you two important things I've learned from "the boy" thus far:

1.  Sandwiches taste surprisingly good with ketchup on them.  When he first said ketchup - I couldn't wrap my head around the bizarre request.  What?  Who puts KETCHUP on a SANDWICH?...weirdo.  Turns out it actually tastes pretty good.  In theory it works...I mean, we put it on hamburgers (and baconburgers) which are bread and meat, so why not sandwiches that are bread and meat?

KETCHUP on my sandwich!

2.  In reference to my inability to make a decision on which "path" in life to follow...he told me to start doing SOMETHING.  Even if it's something small.  The fear of doing something that's not perfect is holding me back from doing anything at all.  And it's far better do something imperfect, and make some progress, and open up possibilities...rather than sit motionless paralyzed by the fear that it won't be my BEST work ever.

So as I scooped up my now "nearly perfect" sandwiches in a bag, and trotted out to the bus with the sun hitting my face, I decided today is the day to turn the leaf and start SOMETHING.  Hence my imperfect return to the blogging world.  :)

My sunny day in Tel Aviv - as the sun goes down

Motivation can be hard to come by when you're debilitated by your own high expectations.  But 'doing' is better than 'thinking about doing'.

Today is the day to do.  Pack your lunch, turn on some tunes, head out into the world (even if you're in Seattle and there's no sun) and take a step toward achieving your goals...even if it's not a perfect step.

"Striving for excellence motivates you; striving for perfection is demoralizing." -Harriet Braiker

History in the Making

(Written on 5/15/2011 from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam)

Oregon?!….OREGON?!

Why is it that the first restaurant I’ve been to in Vietnam (and one that was recommended to me) happens to be a pho chain that also has locations in the state of Oregon.  As soon as I saw that after ordering and closing the menu, it spoiled the authenticity of the meal for me.  Although, it didn’t stop me from slurping down my rice noodles with salad, pork, and shrimp so it couldn’t have been too disheartening.

With every trip I take outside of my hotel, I find myself in awe of something new.  Take for example the gatherings of people every night in the park in front of the hotel – older folks are ballroom dancing under a gazebo, while a group of 10 kids learn a hip hop dance routine, and there is a karate class practicing on the parking lot pavement.

Yesterday, I unfortunately witnessed a young boy “taking care of business” in a Tupperware bin on the side of the freeway, assisted by his father who had pulled over the family motor scooter.  I was shocked, and apparently everybody else on the tourist bus was as well.  But it didn’t seem to faze the locals as a young lady whizzed by on her scooter – decked out in fake Gucci high heels, skinny jeans, a purple blouse, purple scarf, and matching purple crochet helmet cover.  She wasn’t exactly my vision of a “biker chick.”  And although motorcycles and scooters aren’t used for “cool factor” here, I have to believe that by the sheer variety of helmets (which are more like hard baseball caps)…they are in fact a fashion statement.

Helmets aplenty, helmets galore!

Among my unique experiences – one that stands out significantly is my recent trip to the Cu Chi Tunnels, an intricate tunnel system where the Viet Cong hid and lived underground during the Vietnam War.  I was lucky enough to fall into a group led by Mr. Binh (pronounced Mr. Bean!), an ex-U.S. Navy serviceman who himself had fought against the Viet Cong.  Originally born Filipino, Mr. Binh entered the U.S. Navy and never returned to the U.S. after the war.  He later told me it was because he hated American food.  Fair enough.

Mr. Binh explaining about the tunnels

Mr. Binh’s stories and firsthand accounts were captivating.  As we walked around the tunnel site, he detailed stories of fighting beside John McCain and John Kerry.  He told us about the tricks and strategies of the Viet Cong that kept them alive and hidden for so many years as they outwitted the Americans.  One example was how the Viet Cong masked their scents – stealing trash from the U.S. base to place over the tunnel air holes so the U.S. dogs wouldn’t pick up any unfamiliar scents when sniffing above ground. 

One of the doors the Viet Cong used to enter the tunnels

Mr. Binh pointing out one of the tunnel air holes

Explaining how the "Asian squat" was a useful technique for the Viet Cong

Squeezing through the tiny tunnels - 12 m deep

I was amazed by the tunnels themselves, but even more fascinated by the man who was sharing the stories.  Towards the close of the tour, 4 new Canadian friends that I met asked me if I’d like to take Mr. Binh to dinner so we could hear more stories.  Back in Ho Chi Minh City, we glugged down refreshing drinks at the restaurant Mr. Binh recommended as he ordered on behalf of the unknowing tourists.  

After Mr. Binh was quite a few Vietnamese 333 beers in (I think he must have downed 5 of them)…his true emotions started surfacing.  In his no longer perfect English, his eyes teared up and his face got red as he expressed the heartbreak he’d experienced.  He shared about the true feelings that accompany him every time he guides people above those tunnels, and the horrible things he’d witnessed happen to comrades who were good men.

Our personal table trash can

My tour ended with an unexpected, eye-opening dinner, and a man who had pledged his loyalty to the U.S. many years ago.  His stories were full of honorable men, and pride in his American status.  It couldn’t have been a bigger contrast to the way the tour began – with an old video from the Viet Cong perspective.  It was showing Viet Cong that were honored and showered with medals and praise for killing Americans.  Young kids were touted for their gun fighting skills and abilities to root out the enemy (the Americans). 

It was shocking to hear the praises that others were given for taking the lives of my own neighbors.  And my heart sank at the thought of celebrating over deaths that others considered tragedies.  But the reality is that since the Vietnam War, this has happened time and time again.

My thought for you today is to consider the two sides to every story.  History is told from different perspectives – and it was clear to me after my tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels that facts can be portrayed as victories and triumphs as easily as they can be portrayed as losses and defeats.  I encourage you to question your sources, and their motivations behind how they tell stories.