Anything you can spare...

Friends & Family,

If you have the time please take a look at this website. I volunteered at one of their hostels in Kathmandu, Nepal, and taught English at the lama care center. They have another school located in Kailash, which is on the border of Nepal and Tibet. They're in need of sponsorships or donation. Currently, they are afraid that they will not be able to continue all 3 schools because of insufficient funds. It would also be helpful if any of you could spread this message around. Thanks.

Limi orphans, took them swimming, they never went swimming before.

Lama care center.

If you're interested in volunteering or knowing about their projects, please contact: kailashzone@gmail.com

www.kailashzone.org

D'sLG

I think my dream came true. In my previous post, I wrote about a dream I had of my father. I had dreams about my family before, but this dream was so surreal, that it got our father-daughter relationship on the dot.

Growing up, I was a stupid kid. I did stupid shit: I stole, I lied, I was careless, hung around with the wrong crowd, I got into fights, I was horrible in school...I guess you can say a normal kid. My parents did the best they could to help me find the right path, but of course how can they do that? I would never listen to them. My father and I, did not have a good relationship. Most of the time, I was always crying. This goes back to me being dumb, getting into trouble, and being punished. I was so use to crying in front of my father that it became a routine. When I turned 16, that's when a lot of things changed. ME. I hated my life. I didn't know who I was or why I existed. Then I discovered art. I saw a painting in the Pasadena Norton Simon museum, 'bust of a woman' by Pablo Picasso. The painting was my reflection. I related to her facial expression, she looked lost. That's when I knew I love art. It was the first time I felt something. I felt alive. Then I went to art school and my life was getting better and better.

Since then, there were less arguing between me and my dad. I changed. He was waiting for me. My parents supported everything I did and I thank them for that. However, I still can't say I love you to my father without wanting to cry. The crying happens because I don't know how to act emotionally around him. Whenever I am emotional, it's because of all the arguing we had in almost my whole life. It just happens, even when I try not to.

Christmas of 2002, I wrote him a letter as a present. I told him that I loved him and I thank him for everything he has done for me. Where would I be if he wasn't so protective? Who would I be if he didn't teach me to be independent and take care of myself? My strength comes from him.

Our relationship is very quiet. We don't talk much. I'm positive that we NEVER had a deep conversation before. I think if we did, both of us probably can't take it (emotionally), and stop the conversation. We're too much alike: strong, reserved, doesn't like to show weakness. We talk about normal things, but never something deep. In my dream, there was barely any dialogue, but you can feel the love in the relationship...I think. You can feel that we loved each other, father and daughter.

I have seen my father cry 2 times in my life. One of those times was when his grandmother was dying. Third time I saw him cry was when I left United States to Nepal, at the airport, outside of the security gates. He knew I didn't want to come back. Since then, he cries at almost every Skype video call. Tonight, I skyped them. They told me they wanted to come to Vietnam in October to visit. This is one of the best news I've had since Stephaney came. My dad said he read the blog post shortly after I posted it. I asked him "Did you cry?" my dad changed the subject and continued to show me around the new house they moved into. After he put the laptop down, I asked again, this time my mom answered "YEAH! He cries at night in bed, WAH! WAH! WAH! I want to know why you didn't dream about me!" We were all laughing.

I hope they come.

A Story for my Dad

I'm walking on a dirt road by myself, I'm carrying a small backpack, wearing boots, a scarf wrapped around my head, and wearing sunglasses. I must be in traveling mode and finding a village to stay for a while. It's mid-day I think, hot, but not humid. I see a trail off the road into the woods and I look up and see a hill pass. I guess I wanted to go over it, so I take the trail off the road up the hill.

There are trees everywhere, they fill around me more and more where I have to take out a machete to cut off the branches. (I have a machete?) So I'm cutting my way out of the woods Crocodile Dundee style and I see a clear valley coming up. I break away, put the machete away in my backpack, and walk up a hill. I get to a cliff and I stop to look at the view.

"Very nice view," I turn around and there's my dad. He's standing behind me and looking at the same direction I was looking at. He has his hand over his eyes so the sun doesn't reflect off his glasses. He's wearing a red and black checkered button-up shirt, blue jeans, and white sneakers. His hair is very gray, but he still looks the same, a 6ft asian dad with a beer belly. I smile at him while he's looking around. He then looks at me and puts his arm around my neck and kisses me on the cheek. He pats me on the back and pulls me away from the cliff and we continue walking up the hill. I worry about him walking, I don't think he can handle a trek like this, it isn't flat, mainly up-hill rocks and dirt. But I'm remembering that this is a dream. My dad is like Superman. He's jumping over puddles, tip-toeing across a log over a stream, climbing boulders without sweating or huffing and puffing like a former smoker.

"Where's Mom?" I ask him.

"She's in China, visiting Po Po, (Po-Po=Grandmother) Mom told me to come with you."

"That's good."

We continue silent walking, my dad jumps high over a stream. He lands perfectly on the other side, turns around, waiting to watch me jump. I take a few steps back, run, and jump. I land right in the middle of the stream, water all over me, and my boots soaked. My dad is laughing his ass off. Hearing his laugh again makes me smile. I stomp out of the stream and I tell him to shut up. He pats me on the back, catching his breath, takes off his glasses to wipe his laughing tears.

"I think this is the top." He says. I look further up and he's right, we're at the top. We stop around a few boulders. I take out my water bottle and I give it to him. He takes 3 big gulps and hands it back to me. I lay on my backpack and I see my dad sitting with one leg crossed over the other. His hands are resting on his crossed leg, he's looking at the view, smiling. I rest my head back and put my scarf over my eyes to nap for a few minutes.

After a few minutes, I hear him say "Mei, I'm gonna go now." I say "okay," and I hear his foot steps walking away. After a few more minutes, I lift my scarf up, and he's gone. I pick up my backpack and I start walking again.

I miss you. Mom too.

"I am here to search for beauty"

(disclaimer: emo) I recently met a Brazilian traveler that I connected with very deeply. The title of this post was quoted by him and I loved how he said it. I have a hard time explaining how I see 'beauty' in the world. Like my left arm tattoo; a beautiful world. Originally, I wanted it to say We live in a beautiful world, inspired by Coldplay's 'Don't Panic.' But it was like 4 lines long in Tibetan script and I had to trim it shorter. Anyways, he's the first person that I met that sees it the same way as I do.

If you take out the madness, the hate, the things that man has made for the world to be corrupt...and just look at where we live. It's so beautiful. If you have never cried (not baby-balling crying, but just enough to shed a tear) at seeing something beautiful, then I feel sorry for you. Not happiness or fullfillment when you see something beautiful, that doesn't count, I mean...real crying.

My first experience of crying beauty, I was 19 years old in China, I can't remember what city or what temple I was in. But when I walked in, there was a 30 ft (10 m) golden Buddha. Around him were hundreds of smaller golden Buddhas, or Gods, or other statues. They had intricate carvings and extravagant facial expressions, but they were all around me. It felt like I was inside an egg and these statues were alive, enclosing on me. The interior art of the temple overwhelmed me, to the point where I was crying, I was balling my eyes out cause I never seen anything like it.

Another story, I was in Kathmandu, Nepal. It was Nepali New Years, myself and other volunteers walked around a hill near our house that had a stoupa on top. At the entrance, there were stairs that led to the stoupa, there were thousands of lit candles everywhere. There were monks everywhere and people handing me candles whenever I was empty-handed. Being a part of something so sacred, cultural, and meaningful...I thought I would never see something like it again. That's when I realized that simple things can affect me.

Nepal.

Back to the traveler I met. He told me a couple emotional incidents where he felt the same way. He told me a story from Thailand and Cambodia, but I won't share the story because it isn't mine to tell it. Anyways, I told him a humbling story of some Indian village girl being nice to me and giving me candy and rupees because I didn't have any to give her. He asked me later "How can we find this beauty? And how can it find us?" I thought about it for a little and replied "We can't find it, it finds us. But, we have to step out of our bubble first, being away from it, far away, and then it finds us." He had an interesting way of guiding himself in his trip and even though I'm on the same passage as he is, I am still surprised and inspired by him. There are other people in this world trying to find beauty, looking for the answer which we never asked the question, and we still change.

I 'found' myself a long time ago during my solo Europe trip so I'm not looking for answers on why I exist in this world. I'm here because I want to be here, I know what I want to do with my life, I know how to make myself happy. I believe the world is beautiful, I don't care if you don't agree, but I will have to say that it's because you haven't seen it yet.