On Food: The Diagnosis That Started it All

While I’m on the subject of cooking, I am interested in talking about food.  My diet has become stricter and stricter in recent months, and I’m noticing some changes in my body as a result of the healthy eating.

But let me begin from when the journey started.  In April, I was diagnosed with something called PCOS, Polycystic Ovary Syndrome.  I was diagnosed in Thailand, by a doctor who looked with an ultrasound and found some black spots on my ovaries.  In retrospect, he made the diagnosis quite quickly and didn’t really explain to me what it all meant, but I believed that I had it.  It is a disorder characterized by some hormonal changes, the inability to bear children or ovulate correctly, and comes with an extreme increase in the possibility of diabetes.  Because of my diagnosis, and the risk of diabetes, I decided to make some changes in my diet. 

I started by cutting out added sugar from my diet.  Cookies, and cakes, and sweets of any kind, plus soda and anything that has extreme sugars went away.  I treated myself from time to time with something sweet, but, on the whole, I was pretty good about getting rid of added sugar foods for the benefit of my health.  Getting off of added sugar was a bit rough, and continues to be rough during certain times, and sometimes it takes me every amount of my energy to deny myself something delicious and sweet.  But, I knew that I needed to do it for my health, and so I did.

I kept moving farther on the non-sugar train, particularly as my taste buds began to shift.  I cut out more things from my diet, slowly taking the sugar and the things that make sugar out of my diet.  I took out most alcohol.  I took out most bread and grains.  I took out almost everything that is processed or packaged in any way.  All these things make sugar, and I was so afraid of the risk of diabetes that I kept moving farther and farther from anything that resembled sugar in my body.

It hasn’t been an easy road, and it was one of the things that encouraged me to take up cooking when I moved to Moscow.  Now, for some recent memory, my diet is mostly vegetables, particularly spinach, lettuce, and carrots, with oatmeal and yogurt in the morning and salad and meat at lunch.  And, in fact, when this is disrupted, it brings my body to a very unpleasant sort of place.  This is, in fact, the catalyst for this blog post.  I went off my diet this weekend because of travel with a group of young people on a robotics trip, and my body is feeling worse than it has in weeks because of it.

I noticed this as well earlier in the week.  In fact, I decided to celebrate a recent trip to the doctor with a special bit of food.  I went to the doctor here in Russia and found out that I do not actually have PCOS, that my lady parts all look healthy and normal.  Part of me wonders if I had it at all, and the other part thinks the food might have been able to change things for me.  I wanted to celebrate this occasion and decided to do so with a special treat: bread.

So, I went to my favorite grocery store, bought a loaf of the most delicious looking bread that I could find, and made a bread and cheese plate with balsamic and olive oil to enjoy.  After this food, I passed out in a food coma of sorts.  And when I woke up, there was a hangover left in my body that I hadn’t felt in recent history.  My knees and joints felt a bit sore and inflamed, my head had cotton in it, and I just didn’t feel great.  I felt bloated and sick with the food.  And now, in coming back from the trip, I feel much the same.  I ate processed food and bread at the weekend, and far too many of them, and I’m very much regretting that at this moment.   I feel sore again, with my knees acting up and my eyes all puffy. 

I wonder about the food, because I used to have such problems with my knees when I started to run and exercise, and now I don’t notice them.  It’s hard to tell how much of this is from the food and how much from the exercise, but I’ve seen a difference in my body and the way it reacts.  Perhaps bread and processed foods make my joints ache.  Either way, food is a current obsession of mine, and I’m starting to subscribe to ideas about how food can greatly improve life.  I’m watching the documentaries, reading the books, seeing news, and it is making a change on the types of things I will ingest.

I don’t have PCOS, either because I never had it, or because my diet helped my body heal it.  Either way, I’ve found the foods that make my body healthy and happy.  Sadly, I don’t think bread is in that category, or sugars, or packaged foods.  But even without the disease, I can’t quit the path that I’ve found to make my body feel good and have the energy I need at school and at home. 

And given the recent experiences I had with asking for the food, I think I need a word like “vegetarian” that fully encompasses that idea.  I’m not a vegetarian because I eat meat.  I’m not a vegan because I have the occasional cheese and milk.  But we don’t really have a word for people who don’t eat the bread or grain or processed food or packaged food or starch and would really just like something green and delicious to eat.  It would be handy to say that instead of trying to explain all the things that end up making me sick.

Romeo, Juliet, and the Flamethrowers

In looking back through the blogs, I can’t believe I didn’t write about Romeo and Juliet and Fire, an experience I had a month or two ago that was incredible and worth a story.  So, this is not recent, but it was incredible.

I believe this was after a school day, and we had some strange taxi ride to get through to find the bus that would take us out to the venue.  It was me and a few other gals, and we were a feeling the end of the day while we waited in traffic in the taxi to get to the bus in time.  There was something strange with the bus as well, in that we had to come through the back of the “venue” to get into the performance because there were protesters at the front gate.  The start to the whole thing was very strange, and I had little idea what to expect considering I was going on someone else’s ticket instead of having researched on my own.

We made it to the bus, and made it to the venue, and walked through what looked like a carnival graveyard.   It was dark and a bit chilly, like a brisk fall night, and we walked through a broad space with pieces of carnival equipment around on the ground.  It opened up into an outdoor stage, with a castle feature, no type of ceiling, and bleachers, about the size of a high school football field with seating on all sides. 

There was some delaying on stage before the performance started, once we sat down, possibly because of the waiting for big groups to get through the traffic, which was worse than it should have been for the time.  There was an emcee who was talking at us in Russian with his fancy suit on, and he brought down some people from the stands to play a game as a distraction.  There was also a three-man mariachi band.  Why?  I’m still unsure, but they played a few nice songs for us.

We walked out to grab a snack or a warm drink in the refreshment area and, of course, the show started while we were there.  We had been waiting and thought the wait was eminent, but we were wrong.

It started with fireworks.  Tons and tons of fireworks.  An explosion of fireworks that brightened up the sky.

And then there were ballet figures, costumed figures dancing around.  Some were wearing red, and some blue, and the whole story was told mostly in costume and dance.  The start was a group dance, with all the participants, followed by some smaller groups that would dance in the fire, and with the fire, and near the fire. 

The Juliet figure was small and petite, and her costume was flowy and lovely.  She never danced with fire, but there was a nice part where she and Romeo went off into the balcony scene and the whole set lit up in a beautiful arrangement of lights. 

My personal favorite part was the duel between Romeo and Tybalt. Many parts throughout the show involved the fire twirling of big pieces, but the duel was of two different pieces of fire equipment, and it was a dance between the two.  One of them had a ball of fire on a chain that was gracefully moved through the air, and it was quite a beautiful use of the tools.  Although, they eventually left those two pieces for…. Flamethrowers.  In fact, Tybalt was killed with a big blast of the flamethrower.  I believe I lost my hold on laughter and possibly made a scene for that.

The whole show was quite short, with no dialogue.  In fact, I think the whole thing was just an hour, maybe even less.  The whole show was amazing, though, with dance and ballet and aerials, fire in a variety of forms, fireworks.  It was a bit chaotic and crazy and absurd and hilarious, but there wasn’t a moment where I wasn’t in tears from laughing so hard.  In fact, trying to recall specific details is difficult given the night as a whole was so entertaining and enjoyable.

After the show, they invited all the flamethrowers out and the audience had the chance to come up and play with the fire.  They let us push the button to see the fire come out, took photos with us, and even taught some basics of the fire spinners.  This was… quite the experience.  Please enjoy all the photos and videos to get a taste of it. 

The Banya: A Russian Spa Experience

One piece of Russia that I recently got to experience was going to the Banya.  The Banya is a type of spa, and they are all around Moscow.  Some, which I have yet to experience, are female or male only, but the one that we went to is an entire facility rental.

So, I went with 5 of my colleagues, different sets both times, but both organized by one guy who speaks the most Russian of the crew.  This particular banya is a bit curious.  The organizer tells me that the lady who runs the place likes our group because we are not up for any funny business, but I can see how this space may be available for a variety of activities.

Once you walk a few blocks away from our house, and go through a secret (and relatively unmarked) gate to a back entrance (similarly unmarked), and down the stairs into the “basement,” the space consists of this:

-         A small entry room for shoes, coats, umbrellas, etc.

-         A small changing room that is used for the guys.

-         A small room that the ladies change in, that happens to have mirrors on the ceiling and a bed-like structure inside.

-         A small bathroom.

-         A little sofa just outside the changing room.

-         A large room, that has a corner sofa, a television, a coffee table, a hot tub, a corner shower, and a circle pool, as well as a door into the sauna.

The floor also has nice pool-like tiles that don’t get slippery when they are wet, the floor with the holes in it so there is always traction.  Also, the television has played Russian music videos every minute of every time I’ve been there.

Here’s the theory of the Banya.

It’s nice to get super hot in the sauna (which is seriously super hot), then plunge into the ice pool directly after too refresh your skin.  It makes the skin tingly when you feel the cold right after the hot.  Word is that the banya in the countryside would just lead to outside and you can go roll around in the snow or in the realer ice bath.

Then, as you rest on the sofa with your tingly skin, you can take a dip in the hot tub, or have a nice cold rinse in the shower. 

There is a bit of a dance in the banya, from what I can tell. A few people stay on mostly the same schedule: with a sauna for 10 minutes, a 5 minute cool plunge, then some rest.  A guitar has been brought as well, for songs.  A few people (myself included) love the hot tub with its bubbles and its jets, and spend a substantial amount of time there.  And we all just kind of migrate around and chat for a few hours.  I can’t handle the ice bath, but I have put my feet in and splashed the water on my arms and face to get some inkling of the experience.  It would be easy to overheat, I think.  The sauna and the hot tub are made warmer than they need to be, and dehydration could easily be a problem.  Luckily, our organizer always brings bonus waters to help us out.

Of course, food and drink is served in the banya, typically beer and vodka, chicken wings, and an assortment of other finger foods.  The lady who runs the place is delightful, and the golden grill on her teeth is particularly interesting.  If she is prepping the food herself, it is always delicious. 

It’s nice relaxation time, I think.  It’s low key, and there is nothing to do but actively relax, something that is dearly needed when working in the fast paced school that I do.  It’s delightful to lounge and have a giant wet room with different water types and temperatures to explore, not to mention the pop culture which is all across the screen.  Also, you get a banya hat and a robe.  The banya hat keeps your ears safe from the heat in the sauna… and makes you look cool.

The only photo I have, somehow.

There is one more thing to explore at the banya, a future experience, if you will.  There is a tradition of asking the attendant to come in and “massage” you with birch leaves.  In fact, these leaves are sold in some pharmacies and the home store that I like.  A “massage” is actually a beating… you too can get beat with birch leaves as part of your spa experience.  I’ll update any future progress on that note.

Cooking, a Second Post

I have made so much progress with my goal to learn how to cook.  In fact, I’m to the stage of cooking where I am giving food away proudly, without any fear that it is not delicious.  I started with soups, and I’ve been making all varieties of soups, mainly because they are easy to freeze and reheat and because it is a light dinner filled with vegetables.  This week, I gave away a few portions of lemon, ginger, and carrot soup, because it is a great healer of the sickness that seems to come with school in the cold.

Produce at my local grocery store. 

I find myself cooking quite frequently.  I make a batch of something on Wednesday and sometime on the weekend, after I visit the best grocery store in the area (Azbuka: Alphabet of Taste) and purchase produce for the week.  A few weeks ago, I made two kinds of vegetable broth and have been trying them this week with my soups.  I’ve made vegetarian lasagna with eggplant, and some zucchini eggplant round dish that took ages, a tomato sauce that was pretty nice, and a ratatouille that I’m quite proud of.  I’ve roasted things, and pan-fried, and blanched.

The take of veggies one week.

I’m quite proud of yesterday, though.  Yesterday, I took a variety of ingredients that I had in my fridge from other soups and leftovers of things, and put it all together in a new soup.  I didn’t have to follow a recipe, and just judged portions based on what I thought might be right.  Turns out, my soup is pretty darned good.  Best of all, I know exactly how healthy it all is because I made it on my own. 

More often, I just stir fry some spinach or broccoli with some chilis and have it with my food.  I’m eating amazingly healthy with this food that I make in my own home, powering up my body for all the dance and exercise that I do.

Artistically taken photo of chopped veg.

This time was the right time to finally make it happen.  Finally, after all this time, I think I have finally figured out how to make food for myself and how to enjoy it as well.  It doesn’t hurt that I have a cleaner who takes care of the majority of the dishes for me and helps me keep my kitchen clean despite my working so hard to destroy it.

Figure 1. Soup.

This goal of cooking is never accomplished fully, but I do feel the confidence that comes along with being able to stir a bunch of random things together to create a decent meal.  And, I subscribe to the America’s Test Kitchen approach, trying something 15 different ways before determining which way is the best way.  In fact, with my vegetable broth and stock, I did just that.  I’ve found the better alternative to a bullion cube with super saltiness and the processed taste. 

Figure 2. A typical meal.

I’m happy to have a new hobby, and there are more on the way, I think. 

A Russian Constant: Dance

When I was planning my move to Moscow, one of the things I stumbled upon on the Moscow Expats Facebook group was this Ballet and Stretching class.  I was looking for some new exercise, something in a group, something like yoga but not as boring, and this seemed to fit.  It started as a fun way to get out of the house, with a class that is in English, with people that I don’t work with.  Three months later, here I am.

This one isn't great form. From the very beginning.

I’m sure some of the photos have popped up on my Facebook feed, and you may be curious.  Dance ballet class is becoming an ever-larger portion of my nights and weekends, and I’m seeing fitness levels my body has never encountered before.

A Plie, I suppose.

I attend two classes with Katya, usually on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. 

The first is Stretching class, which I’ll admit doesn’t quite explain the types of things that we are doing.  There are elements of yoga, like the downward dog pose, a few elements of ballet, like pointing the toes, some pilates, particularly in the core work, and a lot of pushing your body beyond what you thought was possible.  In fact, in the stretching class, I think we are asked to do the splits 6 different times, in a variety of ways.  I like to call it yoga on acid, because I usually leave stretching with rubbery legs.

Considerable progress has been made since this photo.

The second is Body Ballet, which also doesn’t quite encompass the experience.  This is much more ballet-based, with a bar, and positions, and plies, and recently, jumps.  I don’t really want to go into how ridiculous and ungraceful I look when I jump and plie.  But, it is quite a cardio and endurance event.  There are stretching elements as well, but it is mostly movement and working on endurance.  On Tuesdays, I do both classes and end up a rubbery mess.

The split is a little bit deeper.

It is quite possibly the best exercise I’ve ever had, with the strength and endurance coupled with the flexibility and the challenge.  Katya challenges us to do our very best, and gives us new tasks when we have accomplished one of the moves.  I always feel particularly accomplished when she walks past and doesn’t correct my posture in some sort of way.  I’m also about two inches away from the complete splits (at least on one side), which has not been without difficulty.

The bar makes the split a little bit easier.

The class is wonderful, though.  There are a bunch of Russian gals that I am getting to know, in a large variety of professions.  Many of them are about my age, a few younger or older.  At times, we catch each other’s eyes in the mirror and commiserate at the wandering teacher, who could at any moment greatly intensify one of our stretches by pushing us lower or pulling our leg up higher.  Many of the girls speak a little or a lot of English, and my Russian for the ballet is getting slightly better.  Although, in my opinion, the word for “more,” and the word for “enough” sound a bit too similar, particularly when I’m trying to communicate whether or not my partner should push my leg higher up to my face.

Progress. Much more progress.

And our teacher is amazing.  I will be able to do the splits this year, comfortably (?) because of her.  She calls me Kayla, because I introduced myself as K, and I quite like it.  The “la” on the end of names reminds me a bit of Thailand, so I feel some thrill from both my homes.  You can see a video of her here.

She also has a certain set of phrases that I found incredibly challenging to figure out when I first began.  In fact, I saw a new girl this week and was reflecting back to that moment when I had begun, and how amazingly awkward I was.  Katya says things like, “stretch your knees,” which made absolutely no sense to me in my first few lessons (it means to straighten and elongate your leg).  She says “neck and shoulders” or some variation thereof also quite commonly.  Shoulders go down (no clue what this meant at the beginning either) and neck gets elongated.  She tells me to smooth my face frequently as well.  Apparently, I have a pained expression whenever she stretches me a bit far, and we laugh about it often, moreso now that things are getting easier for me. 

The most recent photo. Also evident of K faces.

My favorite expression of hers, though, is at the end of class.  She darkens the room like in yoga, and has us lay down and relax our bodies.  She says to breathe deep, and to thank ourselves for trying our best and for doing very challenging work.  It’s always such a nice thing to hear, the reminder to give gratitude for the work that I do for myself.

With this class and some of the other things I’ve been working on, I’m feeling healthier than ever before, more fit and more in tune with my body.  It is a great feeling, and I feel like I’m doing 30 right.  

A Tour of the Bolshoi Theatre

Recently, I went on a tour that went through the Bolshoi theatre.  Wow.  I’m was stunned by the grandeur of the space, the architecture and the history.

Coat Tag.

Originally built for the Tsar of Russia, the seating center has a huge box for royalty and prestige.  When you stand on the floor and look back to the seats, it is the only thing you notice: a massive box, with lavish seats, in the most prime viewing location you could imagine.  Of course, the Bolshoi (which just means “big” in Russian) did burn down a few times and had to be rebuilt, but the most recent rebuild was designed by an acoustics expert who brought in special woods and fabrics that reverberated the sounds just right.  Every detail was handcrafted by this designer, the expert of his time.  That’s neat.

Chamber space with highly customizable floor.

There is a massive chandelier in the middle of the space as well.  Before the electricity, it had the ability to be lowered down onto the floor for the lighting of the candles, and only men were seated beneath it, so no ladies would be harmed by the wax. 

View from the top. 

The Bolshoi does have a few stages, as well.  There was the main historical stage, a smaller chamber music type of space, a modern stage that was built after one of the burn downs, and practice stages in the back.  It’s a massive space, which feels much more compact when you are inside of it.  It is a flexible space, especially the chamber music section, which can be cordoned off or opened up as necessary, with special floors that transform as they are needed.

Gold.... everywhere. Balcony sign. 

Interestingly, the costume shop with the sewing machines is on one of the top floors, with a fantastic view and windows.  I must confess, in my years of theatre, I never saw such a thing. 

Peek into the sunny costume shop.

There’s also a room that was created especially for the last Tsar, in his favorite color: deep red.  It has a few pieces of furniture and has a special acoustic feature.  Two, really.  According to our tour guide, he was a soft-spoken person, so standing in the middle of the room amplifies the speaker’s voice above what is normal.  You can speak in a normal voice and it echoes through the room.  Apparently, you can also stand in one corner and hear a person in the opposite corner as if they were standing right next to you.

Red.

Now, I’m still learning about the history of Russia and how it all worked, but what I understand is that the Bolsheviks were completely against the royals and the oligarchy that existed when they came into power.  Their influence brought the communism into Russia, swiftly and with great force.  They destroyed churches in addition to anything that was indicated the old ways of the Tsar.  Hence our surprise that the Bolshoi even exists.  Nearly every piece of the architecture and décor has a piece of Tsarist Russia in it.  Well, our tour guide says that when they first migrated to Moscow and gained power, the communist party couldn’t find many spaces to meet all together.  So, the size of the Bolshoi allowed for meetings of the group and thus was spared.  Eventually, they moved closer to Red Square, to the Kremlin, but for that time, this was all they could do. 

Imperial Russian decor.

The Bolshoi, I believe, is most famous for the ballerinas, and there is a fun fact of the space that makes this even more impressive than it already is.  They tell us that the Bolshoi stage is graded to make the action more visible to the audience.  So, the stage, where dancers stand on their toes and twirl around, is actually raked.  I honestly cannot fathom this, particularly since I am dancing on a regular basis and can barely keep my balance with a flat floor and a bar.  It is a bragging right of a Bolshoi ballerina, because the stage has a special floor to level it when a traveling troupe comes into the country.  The Bolshoi ballerinas are tough enough to manage a hill as they gracefully move about the stage.

The small chandelier.

We were fortunate to get to go into a practice space and see the prima ballerina and her partner practicing one of the duets, possibly of Sleeping Beauty.  They danced over and over again, and we saw the same piece three or four times before we quietly exited the room.  It looked so incredible from the beginning, and as we watched, the turns got a little sharper, and the chemistry a tiny bit better.  It took every single view to see the improvements that were made.  But… the mastery and the skill level… it was unfathomable.

A fun little gift we got when we left was a tiny little pointe shoe.  I even got a red one, which I was told was good luck. J

The First Russian Hockey Game

I attended my first Russian hockey game last week, with a few friends from school.  We didn’t really know what to expect; other co-workers had told us that the games were silent, that we could hear players talking on the ice with the silence in the arena.  I had trouble believing this, considering my last hockey game was so loud that I could barely hear the person next to me, but Russia has been full of surprises.

The floating blimps.

So, we met at the door of our building, got on the Metro to the other side of town, and walked in the cold (it’s about 10 degrees F most days now) to the arena.  It’s massive, with a ton of concrete space out front for meeting.  There were security stations at every door, and the women’s line with the female guard was short enough for us to get through with no issue.  And inside, the typical hockey arena.  It is food, gear, door, followed by food, gear, door.  The special Russian touch, though… is the coat check area.  I’ve never been someplace with so many coat checks in so many locations.

Ice dancer cheerleaders.

This brand new arena is what they’ve built for the Moscow home team: Dynamo. 

The game we saw was Dynamo versus their rival from St. Petersburg: SKA. (This is not to be confused with CSKA, a more local team also in Moscow).

Waiting for the team to emerge.

We got into our door (finally, after walking through the circle of the arena and passing our door with the way the signs fell).  We had our tickets checked by a man in a vest, and went down to our seats behind one of the nets.  On our seats were these cardstock announcements with the Dynamo logos, pieces that we could fold as a noisemaker.  How useful they were when hit against the palm of your hand.

Quick huddle.

As we waited for the game to start, there was an emcee on the ice getting the crowd riled up.  There was a mascot (a blue wolf) who also riled successfully.  There were some figure skating ladies dancing on the ice. 

The SKA cheering section.

We found out that alcohol is not sold for the general population, which appears to be a theme at the public events. 

Folding paper thing.

The game was also quite nice.  First period saw SKA open with a goal, then Dynamo retaliate with a goal that had the crowd wild.  There was a section in the nosebleed seats that was a SKA flavored cheering section.  They had a large drum that they beat in time to make cheers.  The large Dynamo section was at the other end of the arena from us, behind the other net.  They were considerably noisier and had a flag that was almost constantly in motion.  There were also cheerleaders that came to cheer on the steps around us, spaced throughout the arena.

I must say, I was most disappointed with the lack of fighting.  The Pens get in fights about every 10 minutes, but we only saw one skirmish and it didn’t involve the gloves thrown on the floor.  Even the penalty box was relatively clear, just a couple of players in for small infractions.  One of the bigger parts of the game was sticks left on the ice and knocked out of the hands of the players.

This ref. This ref was the best.

However, I wouldn’t fight with the refs that were in the game either.  There was one ref that kept telling the face off players to switch because they had moved too quickly, or kept watching the circle to ensure that no one was getting too close to the action before the puck was thrown.  He kept the players in line with his whole demeanor, chastising them for every toe that crept too far past the circle. 

A crushing defeat.

Sadly, Dynamo fell in the third period after a clever goal by SKA that pushed them into the lead, but the game was close, and remarkably entertaining.  Certainly an experience to repeat, and a quite inexpensive one at that.  It was not a quiet match at any moment, and the crowd was never silent enough that we could hear the players on the ice. 

In fact, I learned a new word: “dvai,” which I believe means, “come on!”  One man was repeating it over and over again for his team: SKA.

Goal Update: Monies

This time two years ago, after I had moved to Thailand, I was feeling a lack of money.  Putting deposits on a place and money into moving after two years in America was quite rough.  Plus, circumstances had left me in some dire straights.  These issues were quickly resolved, but it was a hard time.

Moving to Moscow, I was a bit worried that the lifestyle that I had in Thailand would be at risk, that the city would be so much more expensive and that I would be unable to save anything.  I've been pleasantly surprised at how I'm doing, though.

One recent goal was getting out of debt.

During my time in Cambodia, I was able to save enough money to pay off all of my undergraduate loans before I started my graduate degree.  This was a huge boon to my financial situation, even if I did come back to America and struggle with the lack of credit history.

But, then I went back to school, and I took out loans to pay for it.  This is 2012/2013, for my Master's Degree in Library Science.

Here's what I took out:
$20,500 - Interest Rate: 6.7%
$8,000 - Interest Rate: 7.9%
$10,250 - Interest Rate: 5.5%
$4,000 - Interest Rate: 7.9%

School is fucking expensive.

But, I am happy to say that by the end of this year, this debt will be gone.  In less than 5 years, it will be completely finished, and my life will be debt free once again.  I had hoped that I would be debt free by the age of 30, but I will end up missing it by a few months.

It's taken a lot of work to get here, and many incentives for myself.  Plus, I had help in the form of family for a sizeable chunk of this.  I live a relatively frugal life, and this is one step for my next financial goals.  With the cooking that I've been doing, more frugality is happening.  Plus, I track my expenses quite religiously, to make sure that I know where my money is going.

I've been doing some things to provide me with incentives to reach this goal.

1. The Bees

I started this in Thailand, after I read something on a blog about a woman coloring in circles whenever she was able to put a few hundred dollars into her loan.  I liked the idea of putting in whatever you can and celebrating that amount.  If I was in Thailand still, it may be more pertinent, but I came into some money when I left the school, and moving wasn't nearly as expensive as it has been in the past, given the school that I'm coming to.

Each little honeycomb represents just $100.  This picture is currently accurate, so when I've finished paying off my loans, I will have a fully colored picture.  I'm very excited about this.  My net worth is getting higher by the minute!

2. The socks.

In order for me to get more of my money invested in paying off these loans, Pierre and I thought of an incentive in the form of something I love: socks.  I wanted to buy many socks before I came, but he dissuaded me of the notion that that was a good use of money.

However, now I get a pair of socks whenever I pay $1000 dollars to my loans.  This is a very useful incentive for me.  Many of them are in the wash, but here are two of my recent success stories.

3. Net Worth.

A softer incentive is the net worth that is calculated on my Mint.com account.  It counts up all my assets, subtracts all my debts, and gives me a number.  Just a few years ago, it was negative.  My debts far surpassed my assets, which I found very upsetting.  But now, I'm not only up to a positive number, but every day gets a little bit better.

School is super expensive, and this moment in time will see me working on the newest years of my 30s to make some good money and put it in useful places.  I will be an adult yet.

Goal Update: Food Preparation

In an effort to work on two of my goals, learning to cook and eat the healthiest, I have taken some steps.

I have purchased a few things for my kitchen (since all my things have arrived, and my kitchen still has not all the things.

1. A hand blender and food processor combo, which helps me make soup.
2. A multi-cooker, which I still don't know how to use.
3. A kitchen scale, because I had a recipe that required a weight that I didn't know.
4. A grill pan, because eggplant needs grilled.

I have so far created the following things in my kitchen:

1. Soup with zucchini, peppers, and carrots.
2. Roasted pumpkin soup.
3. Some version of ratatouille.
4. Ravioli.
5. Broccoli (in a pan)
6. Spinach (in a pan)

Pumpkin soup!

Carroty Veggie Soup!

Frozen Ratatouille!

A Fridge Full of Veg!

The goal is to have a bunch of healthy food stocked up in the freezer for some nice dinners, and it is working!  I have more than two weeks of food in my freezer, and a whole bunch of really nice green food in my fridge.

There is the added benefit of the mind stretch in cooking abroad.  My brain is trying to convert units and measurements, which isn't always the easiest thing.  There's the added challenge of finding what I need with the translator app on my phone, and utilizing the help of the ladies in the grocery store.  I feel like an explorer.

I know many of my friends and family aren't going to believe me... but... I'm kind of getting into this. Today, I'm excited that I'm going to cook.  I'm trying to cook eggplant in three different ways today.  Plus, with all of this, I'm losing weight and I feel healthy.  I also notice that the kitchen (and therefore my home) warms up quite a bit with the cooking, especially since they haven't turned the heat on.  And, I smelled the spice cabinet... and it reminds me of mom's house.

The Oven

I have made an amazing achievement.  I have learned to use my oven.

This may not sound like the most thrilling thing, but let me express some of the things that happened in order to make this happen.  I may also add that this is one of my goals, and this is evidence of progress.  More to come on that later. 

This is my oven:

Exhibit 1: Oven

It is a gas oven, which is something I have never encountered.

I have, on the left, a dial and a button that I thought was a flame button.  Given that I turn the dial and click the flame button for the burners, I thought that this was the case.  However, no.  This dial is more for heat, and the button just starts the gas. 

So, I'm consulting with my boyfriend, Pierre, because he is European and probably has encountered an oven such as this.  May I add that he was very useful in helping me learn how my dryer worked.

First, I wonder to myself how I even make this work, especially without blowing myself up in a fiery gas burning death. 

I try to turn the dial, I click the button.  I click the other button.  I wait. I look. I listen. 

Turning on the gas dial does nothing, I notice.  I hear nothing. No sounds of gas, no anything.  This is a good sign. 

Exhibit 2: Dial, Button.

I consult with Pierre, who recognizes the dial as something about the heat.  There is a measurement where you multiply this by some number to acquire a temperature in Celsius.  I disregard this information until it is more useful.

I look inside the oven, to see if there is an easy place to light the oven. 

Exhibit 3: Oven Innards.

The holes in the front are just too small for a lighter, and I actually only have a small lighter at this time.  So, this wasn't going to work.  I take a moment to re-read information shared over Facebook from the new people, because I know that I am not the only person with this issue. 

Then, I move the bottom tray, which slides out quite easily. 

Exhibit 4: The "Aha" Moment.

I see where the gas comes out.  I see the flame marks.  I see everything.

I notice that pushing the button near the dial means that I hear the sound of gas, and that is confirmed with the view that I currently have. 

I know what I need to do.

It was time for me to take my life in my hands and light the gas oven.  With a lighter: a small, normal lighter.

I click the button, hold it down, and slowly move the lighter closer to the area.  With a whoosh, it lights up.  After a brief moment of celebration, I lift up on the button to survey the handiwork.

The flame... dies.

I think to myself, perhaps I need to press it longer. 

So, I press the button again, bringing the lighter to the tube, holding the button longer and longer.  I light the tube, it whooshes up.  I wait, holding the button.

The flame dies again.

Exhibit 4: Just... stay.... please.

I do it again. I press the gas button, light the tube, reach with my foot to close the window (just in case), hold the button, put the tray back in (for flame protection), hold the button more, and after a few minutes, release.

Success.

SUCCESS!

And now, this:

Exhibit 5: Roasting Pumpkins

So far, I have roasted carrots and pumpkins in this oven.  With many more things to come.

I am progressing with my goals to create food in my kitchen.