My Folks

"YOU ARE SKINNY." That's what my pops said to me when he saw me picking him up at the Hanoi airport, October 4th. Followed by "A year and a half and 4 days." For me, it didn't feel long. For him, it was. He and I talked about my whole time in Vietnam while we waited for my mom to arrive. (they flew seperately from different countries). At this time beginning of October, it was 1,000 year anniversary of Hanoi itself. So it has been crazy packed in the Old Quarters.

My dad was emotional seeing me and I knew he was going to be like that. Seeing my mom was casual as ever, as if she was a buddy I saw yesterday, "hey" my mom said when we saw each other. We grabbed a taxi and headed to their hotel. It was late in the evening but all the lights of Hanoi was still lit. Been a while since I drove in the Old Quarters late at night, so it was nice to see it all decorated without the normal chaotic traffic.

The next day I met up with them and we walked around the Hoan Kiem Lake. I grabbed a couple cyclos (I can't believe I did it a second time) for my dad, and the other for mom and I. Rode around for 30 minutes and had lunch, and walked around some more around the Old Quarters. Went back to the hotel and took a nap. Dinner came around and I took them to Quan An Ngon. One of my favorite restaurants. My parents ordered 7 dishes! Turned out that my dad wanted me to be full, he thinks I'm starving myself to save money (maybe).

Wednesday, my parents left in the morning to Halong Bay. A 1 night and 2 day trip. I had to stay in Hanoi to work.

Thursday.

Friday, I worked and taught class. I met up with them in the evening before they went to bed. They said they enjoyed their time in Halong Bay and had great food. A few ups and downs with the tour guide and hotel management, but overall they enjoyed it.

Saturday, we had lunch with the owner of the school I am teaching in. The restaurant was a HUGE buffet and once again, I was stuffed. I think I did gain a few pounds that week. Anyways, after lunch we went to ceramic village and silk village. The whole journey should have taken about 3 hours, including shopping time, but because of traffic due to the festival, it took 5 hours! Not to mention, our taxi driver hit someone on a motorbike. The driver flew off his bike. I did not want my parents to see that when I had JUST told them that I bought myself a bike. The taxi driver gave the injured motorbiker 300k dong ($15) and we left. Good thing we were tired, my parents forgot about the accident and just relaxed when we got home.

Sunday, I was supposed to be at my parents hotel at 8am, and take a tour bus to Hoa Luu (Old capital) and Tam Coc. I woke up LATE! I can't remember what I did Saturday night...I woke up at 7:40 am. I brushed my teeth, grabbed my backpack, and drove as fast as I could to their hotel, the streets were so busy at that time! But I made it to my parents hotel on time.

I fell asleep the whole way to Hoa Luu. Hoa Luu was nice but Tam Coc was AMAAAAAZING. Way better than Halong Bay. My mom is silly, she's sooo silly.

Tam Coc

Tam Coc

We got back to Hanoi early evening and I took them to have BBQ. Afterwards, we had dessert called Che, it's just a bunch of different stuff mixed together and crushed ice on top, my parents like that kind of stuff. We headed back to the hotel and I spent the night there with them. My dad had to leave back to Taiwan the next early morning.

Monday morning, my dad left at 7:30am. He told me not to come with him to the airport. I couldn't go anyway cause I had work, but if I didn't, he would force me to stay in Hanoi. My dad is too proud to cry in front of me, I'm the same way. I left my mom at the hotel until lunch time. I picked her up at noon, put her in a taxi and followed me back to my house, 15 minutes away.

Tuesday, I forced my mom to cook for my friends and I. It took us 2 days to shop for all the ingredients, and it was the first time I rode a motorbike with her on the back! It was a lot of fun and she didn't seem scared or paranoid being a passenger. That's good. About 10 people showed up and my mom and I cooked so much food! The left overs lasted a few more days. Anyways, it was a good night of my close friends and it was nice to eat her cooking again. She's the best Chinese chef!

Dinner

Wednesday, I was late coming home in the evening. I had to attend a ceremony where a Vietnamese 'celebrity' was handing over donations to people suffering from disabilities. I had to take photographs. It was crazy traffic and was so worried my mom was waiting for me to eat dinner. I got home quickly and I open my bedroom door, my mom is laying there watching her Chinese DVD's. She did eat without me cause I was too late, but we went to the Old Quarters to go shoe shopping. Ate a little food cause I was hungry and we both shared a fruit smoothie.

Thursday, I came home from work at noon, we had lunch and went to a hair salon. We got our hair washed and had facials. We both relaxed until her taxi came at 4:30 pm, and she left to the airport back to America.

I think my parents liked Vietnam. I also think that my dad understands why I like it here and more acceptable that I'd rather be here than America. I needed my dad to visit me cause it's good for both of us. I like seeing people I care about and I miss a lot of people, and he needed to see his daughter. It was a good trip, many laughs and hugs.

my folks.

sleeping to dream

Spiders, sharks, motor accidents, and losing people I love. Some things I am afraid of. But now I have this annoying habit that seems impossible to get rid of, and I can only worry more if it gets worse...

When I was in Europe for 9 months in 2004, traveling through 15 countries and 160 cities (so imagine how many hostels I've slept in). I developed a sleeping habit of waking up abruptly, kind of scared, took a minute to realize which country I was in and why I was there. I'd wake up and think "where am I?" A minute is a long time to think which country I'm in! I was completely clueless. That habit eventually faded when I went back to America.

The past few months that habit is creeping back again, but more fearful and almost violent. I'd wake up with a big kick (as if I was falling in my dream) in the middle of the night and I would be really really scared. I'll look around my room and still be confused on where I was. I'd think "Am I in India?" Then slowly I would remember that I am in my house, Hanoi, Vietnam. Lately, I'd wake up and think I'm in Los Angeles, that I was sleeping in my old apartment, and this was all a dream. Everything...Nepal, India, Vietnam...the past 1.5 year was all a dream. I was dreaming the best dream I ever had and it never actually happened, I'm in reality. I told my brother this problem via skype and he said "Mei, if this is a dream, then I would be dreaming too."

It's a realization that I am living my dream and I fully understand now how important this trip means to me. How precious time is. I'm going to be 28 years old. How long can I keep this dream going for?

Currently in Hanoi

So far so good in Vietnam. I moved into an awesome house in Westlake with really cool housemates, and a great view of banana tree farms. Started teaching over a month ago and I love my students. Graphic work is going well, I'm enjoying the projects I have been working on. Also doing separate design projects on the side to make more money.

I recently responded to an ad I found on the internet. It needed volunteers to teach English to a high school outside of Hanoi, Thach That district. I visited the school a few weeks ago to understand their knowledge of English. I found out during my visit that I was the only person that responded to the ad and was willing to travel 1 hour to the school and help out. The teacher that was organizing this program desperately needed my help. After all this time being in Asia, I am ready to take on this program. I've met with the director and principal of the school and they agreed that I can take charge. So I'm facilitating! (for free) But at the same time, I'm doing this alone. Teaching 4 classes with a total of 250 teenagers isn't easy. I definitely need to find some foreigners interested in doing this. Anyways, this morning was the first day of teaching. I woke up at 5:20am (ughhhh) and got to the school at 7am. Wow...it was really tough getting the kids to say Hi or Hello. I knew it would be difficult for the kids to speak cause I know they're shy, and most likely embarassed to speak in front of me. It was frustrating because a lot of them were lazy, like ALL teenagers, but I know they have potential. This will be a good challenge for me.

Phung Xa Commune School

The school I'm teaching in Hanoi is great! The students I teach are 8-14 years old. I have been asked to teach at other schools for more pay, but I refused cause I was already attached to my students. I didn't want to leave them. They're so clever. For example, I was teaching them what strange and normal meant. I drew a picture of the sea on the board, they called out that fish, shells, coral, and sharks were normal in the sea. Then I drew rabbits, horses, and ants, and they all said it was strange. After I drew a car with a person driving in it, all said it was strange but one boy, he said "Normal!" I gave him a confused look and I asked why? He said "...in the future." Come on! Isn't that cute!

Hanoi School.

Because I'm taking on so many great projects, I'm not even sure if I'm doing too much. I barely have any free time, I'm always tired. BUT!!! I like it. I'd rather be busy than not. I am doing what I came here to do, was work. My work is important...and I'm doing it, I'm happy. I like that I can still do voluntary work while I'm here. It keeps my mind in-check.

In one month, my parents are coming to visit me. :))))

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.