My Things Have Arrived

Having your shipment arrive is one of the most amazing days.

I shipped off my goods in the middle of July, and two men arrived at my mother's house to pack all of my clothing and knick knacks and cooking gear into boxes, then carted them away.

A few days ago, it finally arrived, and two men arrived at my new house to bring all of my clothing and knick knacks and cooking gear out of the boxes, taking them away.

This was a quick process, just less than an hour.  The men made just one comment about my things as they unpacked.  They pulled out the boxing gloves, asked if they were mine, laughed, then put them down.  The rest was as practical and easy as can be.

They even took away the boxes, which honestly would have been the most inconvenient thing to have in my house.

Later update: It took me quite a few hours (and days, if I'm honest), to put away all of these things.  But, I am proud to say that all of my things are where I want them to be and I am fully settled in.

One Week and Counting

In exactly a week, to the minute, I'll be getting ready to board a plane on the way to Moscow, Russia.  Most of the details are in order at this point.  I've sent off my shipment, all the goods that have been taking up space in my mother's house, including my quilt, some cooking implements, and more stationary than any person needs to own.  I have an appointment tomorrow to see the vet with Rizza, to get her final paperwork in order.  My visa (in my fancy new passport) is reported to be in the mail. I even have a new computer, a fancy new Surface, to make myself more mobile around the massive school.

This final week in America (again), I'm spending time with family and picking up a few last minute items, although my suitcases have been packed for some time already.  I'd also like to catch a movie or two.  It's become something of a ritual to see a film before I leave the country.  I remember before I left for Cambodia, it was Dark Knight. Hopefully, I can eat a few more burritos from Chipotle, since there is something outstanding about that flavor.  Most of the rest is just ensuring that I'm organized enough to manage life in a new place by having my life in order.

Given the short time before I go, I thought I should get the blog back up and running and set some goals for my time there.  I'll be in Russia for at least two years, and possibly more if everything goes to plan.  Some of my family members reminded me that they both read the blog and note the goals that I have, so there is some accountability at stake here for me. :)

But first, let's review the Bangkok goals.

1. Add positive habits.
There were a few positive habits that I added in Bangkok, the most notable being a gratitude letter.  Every day, I wrote something that I was grateful for on a large piece of paper.  That will certainly be coming to Russia with me, because it was a beautiful way to reflect on the day and enjoy again a small interaction that I had with another person or with myself.

I created a Happy List, and try to do something from that list every day.  They are as simple as a crossword puzzle and cup of tea, but that idea that I'm actively making myself more happy is a blessed one.

I also utilize a nice task management system... Habitica.  That I would consider a positive habit, as I'm motivated to accomplish things through a somewhat external system, providing me added benefits to getting stuff done besides just, well, getting stuff done.

2. Learn Thoughtfully and Consistently.
I think at the beginning, this was happening more.  Towards the end, I think I was becoming lazy in Bangkok, but I've been working on my Russian and will have many new things to learn about a new city and a new culture.

3. Be Mindful.
It is hard to judge this, but I was meditating on a relatively frequent basis and reflecting about life often. I continue to search for this.

4. Save Every Extra Baht.
I was certainly saving some money in Bangkok, and quite a lot.  I have some new money goals for Russia, though, that I'm hoping will work out.

5. Organize a Life of Photos.
Indeed this organization has taken place... and is set up conveniently in a Dropbox folder that holds everything I own on three devices and the internet.

6. Find the Joy of Cooking.
Gosh, I must say that I've been unable to find the joy of cooking as of yet.  In fact, it is quite a challenge to find the joy of cooking when fresh, healthy, home cooked food is available 20 feet from your door for a dollar or two.  Perhaps it is unsurprising that my second home in Bangkok, in the city center, didn't even have a stove.

This year, I'll be 30. My aunt Carol calls me a "larva."  I have much improving of myself to do on my quest to be whatever comes after a larva, I think. Here are those goals:

1. Save Those Rubles.
It is my goal to pay off my students loans, all $18K, while I'm in Russia. I want to be free of the bounds of debt, and plan to take every step to pay those down.

2. Seriously, Learn to Cook.
I've gathered that Russia will not have the access to fresh food on the street that I've been recently accustomed to, so it really is time to learn to prepare a meal or two.  This will also help with the next goal, because I need to....

3. Eat the Healthiest.
I've been diagnosed with a condition that increases the likelihood of me getting diabetes by an insane amount, so I've restricted my sugar to almost none.  I eat mostly plants, with some protein thrown in, and I'm feeling (and looking) better than I have in some time.  I plan to keep that going in Moscow, and maintain my health as I start this new chapter.

4. Write.
I've been eager to write a book of short stories since I read a recent book. I would like to write a book that commemorates the people who have made my life as amazing as it has been, the men and women who have shaped my life into what it is.  I also want to write on this blog and write in my journal far more frequently than I have been doing.

5. Expand the Resume.
A librarian needs to be a little bit of everything, so this year is a year for growth.  The school that I'll be working at is considerably different than the ones that I've been to, so it is my goal to expand my resume by building in pieces of other disciplines and learning from the wealth of knowledge that will be in my colleagues.

6. See Europe.
I was getting lazy in Thailand, not wanting to travel.  I will make the effort to get out and see Russia, Europe, and Central Asia, and be sure to take some vacations that recharge me and my mind as I see the world.

I want to ring in my 30th year with happiness and joy through the thrill of improving myself and seeing all that I can.

An Open Letter to Congress on Planned Parenthood

To All Members of Congress that Voted to Defund Planned Parenthood:

I want to share with you one story about Planned Parenthood: my own story.  I would like to show you that your decision to defund this organization has an impact beyond the scope of your current thought.  I will be polite, logical, and honest, and I hope that you hear me.  It is something of a long letter, but there's some back story, so I beg your patience.

I would consider myself a very average American.  I am from a small town, grew up as an only child of a single mother, and checked the lowest income box when I applied for my FAFSA before college.  I was valedictorian of my high school class and went to a modest liberal arts school in Iowa where I could be near my grandmother.  When I graduated with my BA, I joined the Peace Corps to travel the world and serve others.

The Peace Corps gave me some of the best medical care I've ever received.  I was rarely ill as a child and didn't like the extra expenses in college, but in Peace Corps, this government program, I was treated to rounds of shots and nicely staffed offices.  I learned about my body and how to treat it well.  I exercised, lost weight, and ate healthy.  I stayed in Cambodia for two more years following Peace Corps, working as a librarian and paying down my student debt to zero.  I took advantage of the cheap system of health care in SE Asia and made sure that all my dental visits and doctor concerns were managed.

There was one thing I couldn't find in Cambodia: a gynecologist.  But, since I was young and healthy, with no problems, and a relatively recent screen through Peace Corps, I didn't worry about it.

I decided that I wanted to return to America for graduate school in my new field of choice: librarianship.  I had done some traveling, ruminated about my future career path, and knew that I needed more credentials to follow that path.  I moved to Pittsburgh.

Let me summarize the main points so far.  I am an average American edging into lucky and privileged territory.  I was able to go from a tiny town in Nebraska to a college education to working overseas to save and pay off my student loans.  I was extremely healthy, financially secure, and exceedingly independent.

I moved to Pittsburgh, got an apartment with the help of a friend's parents, and started school.  Let me add that I am lucky just once more, to have a friend I could stay with, a car (that I purchased from my mother) to drive across the States in, and the opportunities of school that were before me.

The time I spent in graduate school was difficult, because living in America is difficult.  I didn't have health insurance (the premiums were almost as much as rent per month and I was beyond my mother's insurance).  I didn't have a full-time job like I had the two years previously (and, arguably two years before that).  I didn't have a Peace Corps medical office to call (the school med center was there, though they had to refer me out).

I had saved (what I thought was) a lot of money, about $6,000, and paid off all previous debt, but it went fast.  Between rent, car expenses, setting up an empty apartment with used goods, and the variety of other expenses of America, I was struggling.  I was working a minimum wage internship, taking every opportunity to earn more elsewhere, while still working as a student.  I moved in with friends to save money, shared my commute with co-workers, and rarely bought anything new.  This is, unfortunately, not an unusual story for millennials, at least in my circles of friends.

Now, here may be a TMI moment.  While I was sexually active, I was not sexually irresponsible.  You may not be interested in my sex life (and I sincerely hope you aren't), but you need to know that I was not having unprotected sex, or having one-night flings, or being unsafe.  I don't think that this matters in this discourse, but I see it brought up in many conservative discussions, so perhaps it is important for you.  I take responsibility for myself and my health, and I wanted to be respectful of my partners.  I learned in Peace Corps that getting screened and tested was a proactive way to demonstrate that respect.

I also wanted to take my own action to prevent pregnancy, just in case.  It was easy in Cambodia, because the monthly dose of the pill only cost about a dollar.  I was at the end of my bulk supply.  I looked into other options, did my research, and decided on an IUD.

The student med center didn't do IUDS, but Planned Parenthood would.  Pennsylvania has a woman's health program (Thanks, PA!) that allowed low-income women (like myself) access to health care.  That meant that I could go into Planned Parenthood and get an IUD for free.  For me, the IUD was a way to be constantly and consistently safe, for five years, for a minimal price (for the state and for me).  It managed some menstrual symptoms, prevented pregnancy, and didn't require daily attention.

It was perfect.  I set up the appointment for the preliminary exam.  By this time, it had been about 3-4 years since I had seen a gynecologist.  For a mid-20s woman, that's not abnormal.  We should have a check-up every two years, to check for cervical cancer.  In order to get an IUD, they gave me a pelvic exam.  During that pelvic exam, they found something that required a procedure.  I won't explain the graphic details of this, but it required me to go to the hospital.

Here is my luck again... that procedure was quick and easy, outpatient, and paid for with my PA women's health insurance.  That procedure took place in a local hospital, that I could get to on public transport, and that took only a few hours of recovery time.  There were no complications.  It wasn't as serious as some.

Planned Parenthood took care of me, both with their response to my pelvic exam and subsequent referral to a hospital, and their ability to provide me with the lowest cost (both for the state and for me) birth prevention method available.  The cost, even if I hadn't had the women's insurance, would have been far less than the cost otherwise.

I didn't have an abortion.  I was able to prevent pregnancy.  Not everyone is as fortunate... to be able to have control over their birth control, and to not suffer an abusive situation.  I was lucky... again... to not have to make that choice.  I know that many of you disagree with the idea of abortion, but that choice is not easy... nor is it yours to make.

Planned Parenthood was there when I was working to improve myself.  Many conservative values radiate around the idea that a person can pull themselves up and make a better life.  I have done that.  I am still doing that.  When I was working towards my goal, the price of school and the cost of living were a difficult cross to bear, but I'm back to enriching, full-time work and paying into the economy with purchases and taxes.  I am not reliant on state money, and I'm paying back my student loans, almost free from debt.  I am an educator as well, a confident shaper of young minds.

But, I was lucky:

• I had friends who supported me. People who could pick me up from the doctor or take me out for dessert after a difficult appointment.  Not all women do.
  
• I had a vehicle, ample (thought unreliable at times) public transport, and easy access.  Not all women do.
  
• I had a state that supported women's health through their insurance program.  Pennsylvania, thank you.  Not all women do.
  
• I had the education to request, and sometimes demand, contraception.  Both for myself and with my male partners.  Not all women do.
  
• I had the confidence and the control and the willpower to demand contraception from my (wonderful) male partners.  Unfortunately, not all women do.
  
• I had a safety net in my wallet, in my family, in my friends.  I had money in savings.  Not all women do.
  
• I had access to another medical center and hospital.  Not all women do.
  
• I had zero student debt, and could afford the education I was receiving.  Not all women do.
  
• I had a job that understood and accepted my need for recovery time, even though I didn't use it.  Not all women do.
  
• I had a finite date for my minimum wage internship, which was a stepping stone to a salary job.  Not all women do.
  
• I had a Planned Parenthood location that wasn't picketed (that often) and that was private.  Not all women do.

I was very lucky.  Not all women are.  I needed Planned Parenthood, and many, many other women need it more.

My story is not unusual.  In fact, I heard my story in many of my friends.  Planned Parenthood is easy, inexpensive, helpful, positive, non-judmental, and sensitive.  For young women and men across the country, support for their health is available.  Whether it be for contraception, responsible testing, or abuse support, women and men are using these clinics to benefit themselves, and to benefit America.  They are responsible citizens working for their better life.

By defunding Planned Parenthood, you are preventing people like me, a responsible, hard-working adult woman, from accessing birth control that saves tax-dollar money.  You're also preventing it for the millions of women who are in similar need of a place that cares about them.  I had it easy here, but in that one heartbeat of time in my life when I truly needed them, they were there.

Please, I beg you, do not defund Planned Parenthood.  Doing so does not solve your mission to end all abortion, but puts that many more lives in danger.  Planned Parenthood is not the enemy here, and their efforts have mediated the numbers of abortions through providing safe and easy access to contraception.  Defunding them makes that contraception more difficult and restricts health care for those that desperately need it.  Please do not take this away from the women who need it.

All the best,
Kelsey

On Banning Books (Banned Books Week Manifesto)

Starting tomorrow, libraries across America (and my library in Thailand) will celebrate Banned Books Week.  It's a celebration of the American freedom of reading, a celebration of the right of people to read what is available.  This year's focus? YA books, a commonly banned or challenged genre, mainly because the content includes violence, or sex, or drugs, or some combination of the above factors.

As an avid reader of YA lit, I can appreciate that there would be challenges to these texts.  I know that challenging books comes from a good intention, from the desire to protect a child from something sensitive.  I understand that reading about sex (or whatever) may be difficult for an adult to condone.  In my role as a youth librarian, though, I can't imagine anything more important than stepping into another's shoes and practicing the empathy that books create in us.

I'm keeping books very vague on purpose, because I think that even silly content can teach empathy and understanding.  Even books with seemingly no value can help us understand something new about our world and the humans within it.  I am the perfect example of this.

When I was a kid, I liked books.  I still like books.  After I read the Lemony Snicket series, Goosebumps, and Dear America, I moved on to romance novels.  First, I read romances for teens, and then I moved on to romance novels for adults.  As a teenager in high school, I read through the entire library's romance section (in two towns).  I remember that the librarian in one of the towns was not remarkably supportive of my reading choices, but that my stubbornness overcame that challenge.  I collected romance novels.  My bookshelves were right next to my bed, and included titles stacked two deep, two tall, and on three shelves.

I have read thousands of romance novels, many that I can't remember, some with vague memories.  Johanna Lindsey, Diana Palmer, Nora Roberts, more and more.  I can stand in a store and read through a romance novel in a remarkably short amount of time.  I can read through a Harlequin Presents novel in an hour.  I'm only slightly embarrassed to mention my addiction to this genre.

I know that my choice of genre is not the most accepted in general populations.  I know that it is not a respected type of book.  But, they are not without value.  They transport me to different places, to other countries, to different times, to the minds of different people.  There are opportunities to learn new words, because even romance writers are trying to use their vocabularies.

Other things that I like are similarly disregarded as valid art forms.

Rap music and hip hop music, my favorite genre because of the beats and the rhymes and the rhythm in the music, is not a respected art form.  They are wordsmiths, but it isn't seen that way.

Graphic novels are not respected either, and in fact, are banned more often than traditional YA literature.  The genre isn't understood or respected.  I didn't like the books until recently, when I read American Born Chinese in graduate school.  We also read Maus I and II, in the break before the spring course begun.  I took several books home with me to Iowa for Christmas, with even more on CD.  After finishing Maus, I explained the premise to my mom, and she picked it up and read both texts cover to cover.  This is outstanding to me because I've rarely seen her read fiction.  The newspaper, sure, especially on the way to the crossword puzzle.  But a fiction book?  It wasn't the thing she wanted to do with her time.

She read both that day, and it opened up a conversation.  I also read books during that vacation about lesbians, high school secret societies, gossip, and vampires.  The reading brought questions that I wanted to ask my mother about, and I did.  I doubt I would have breached the subject of homosexuality without having a great book (Annie on My Mind) to spur me.

I think about this when it comes to books, particularly YA books.  There are many things that I learned from books... how to communicate when I generally preferred to observe, how to observe more deeply when I was only seeing one side, and how to read the emotions that I saw on faces.  My family didn't always want to talk about issues, as atypical things are rarely spoken about in small towns.  I explored in books issues that I didn't know existed and it brought me to where I am today.

It doesn't matter what a kid reads, as long as they are reading something.  They can read manga, or romance, or fan fiction, or John Green, or anything.  Whatever they are reading helps them to get into a story, helps them see a perspective that they may not have known existed.  If they read about drugs, maybe they see that they're not that interested, or that they should exercise caution.  They may read a book that features a normal boy who happens to be attracted to another boy, and realize that they are also attracted to boys.  They may read Harry Potter, where the main character has some serious issues with authority (seriously, did he ever follow the rules?).  Despite this, they may see that some things are worth fighting for, and that protagonists are rarely perfect.  Characters have flaws, but books help you realize that you can make those mistakes and find ways to have integrity and acceptance.

Most importantly, I think books help you think of questions that you hadn't considered.  These questions could be innocuous, or serious, but often new.  Anything from "how can I deal with a broken heart?" to "how far is too far when it comes to sex?"  That uncertainty unnerves adults sometimes, especially if they're part of the equation, with questions being asked of them.

Recently, some adults have said the same things to me.
"Well, how do we know a book isn't too advanced for a kid?"
"What if a kid checks out something that they won't understand?"
"What happens if there's violence in a book and they take it the wrong way?"

Kids get things.  Kids are sensitive little humans who instinctively know that the violence in this book is not the success in the story.  They know when they should ask something and when to keep their knowledge quiet.  Their online lives are full of things that we don't understand, things that they know to keep quiet because the adults will disapprove.  Trying to keep them in the dark does nothing for them, because they can find whatever inappropriate content they want with a simple Google search when their parents are asleep.  Banning the nuance that a text gives brings them just their simple search results with YouTube comments (which are generally harsh) or Tumblr posts (which are often un-researched, or researched quite well, but you're never sure what you're seeing) or whatever else they can find.

If it doesn't make sense, the kid will likely abandon it.  If they can't handle it, they'll put it down, or endure practicing the perseverance of getting through a challenge.  If it is sensitive, they'll talk about it with whoever will understand, or ruminate over it on their own.  Have a little faith in them, and let them surprise you.

I read romance novels, and I am still a functional member of society.  Other read manga, or comics, or ghost stories, or fanfiction.  Any book in a student's hand brings them that much closer to being the empathetic and sensitive adult you're hoping for.  Give them a little credit and let the kids read.

It Wasn't Dengue!

It's a beautiful day.

Let me set the soundtrack for this day, the first song that came on my shuffle this morning when I walked out of the house in search of coffee and noodles.

Allow me also to set the tone for this post... It is Saturday today, and I am finally feeling myself.  On Tuesday, however, I thought I had dengue fever.  A coworker had told me that I was looking quite tired on Tuesday, and sure enough, I was.  After work, I went into my strange borrowed apartment and settled in to watch Mr Holland's Opus, an old favorite that happened to be on cable.

About half way through the movie (when he starts teaching driving school and the big parade reveals that his son is deaf), I started getting the chills that felt like a big fever was coming round.  It was not pleasant.  It reminded me of when I realized I had dengue back in Cambodia.  Shivering, teary-eyed, I went and had the doorman call me a taxi so I could get a blood test at the hospital.  I'm not prone to believing I have illnesses, but it is rainy season, and I had seen a tiger mosquito in my house the week prior, so I was mighty nervous.

The taxi man didn't quite know how to handle my unkempt appearance, or the fact that I didn't have the comfort clothes that I may usually have had.  In fact, I was wearing my school dress still, a brown frock, with my bright sarong pants beneath it, and a blanket on top to handle my feverishness.  However, we made it to the hospital, and the staff anxiously tried to understand my limited Thai amidst my chattering lips.

The blood test told me that I didn't have dengue (thank the Lord), and they prescribed me some medicine to take that would ease the pain and kill any other flu symptoms that I may have had.  I managed to make it through the week, thanks in great part to my coworkers who kept me in Reese's cups and distracting chatter, and even made it to a staff BBQ at a friend's house on Friday.

I had never really believed in the 24 hour flu, until this week, when I had it.

Fast forward to this morning.

Sheaf of mail, all bills and important things.

I had a ton of errands to run this morning, because when I got back to my apartment, I found a stack of mail from bill time.  There's things to do to get ready for summer, for my month back in the US.  I've got to get to packing up, and doing laundry, and setting up my home for my absence.

One piece of mail that I got, I couldn't read.  At all.  However, a little detective work, and I realized that there was a package at the post office for my house.  My detective work consisted of me looking at the little logo, and realizing that the map on the back was for this far off errand.

Detective work required. I do see that I owe 120 baht.

In order for me to go to the post office, where all the packages arrive, I typically take the songtaew down Ramkanghaeng, this big long road in the city, then take a moto to my destination.  It's usually an adventure, because it feels like it is in the middle of nowhere.  You drive down all these mixed up roads, and all of a sudden, this post office appears as if by magic.  Since the place is actually two buildings, you can't even go in the main entrance.  You have to go back around the corner, and enter this secreted away building with a sliding door to retrieve your package.

Post office logo. Importante.

I was enjoying my new musical playlists though, as I took this journey today.  I ate my noodles with my favorite noodle ladies, and a local even mentioned as I was paying that she sees me here every week.  "You must really like these noodles," she said.  I do.  They are the most garlicky noodles in the city.

I walked up to the bank on the way towards the bus stop where I catch the songtaew, determined to take in the collection of .25 baht and .50 baht coins that I had collected, things that I get as change from 7/11 when I pay my bills but cannot actually spend anywhere.  No one will take them, and I had a years' worth collected from various forays into the city.  The clerk, who recognized me, of course, asked me how much I had, picked out the Hong Kong cent and the Singapore cent from the mix, and gave me a 20 baht bill for my trouble, after she counted the whole mess.

I caught the songtaew, and even attempted to grab a taxi, wanting a brief respite from the heat.  He told me to grab a moto because the mess of roads wasn't something he wanted to deal with.  It wasn't a big deal, because he only took 20 baht instead of the 40 that the meter said I owed.

I walked across the bridge to the moto stand by the pagoda, and was lucky enough to land a female moto driver.  The moto stands here are amazingly well-organized, and they take turns for fares.  Whenever I am lucky enough to have a female driver, I always tip.  I try to support them in this male-dominated business whenever possible.  Khun Ann, the school staff's favorite taxi driver, is the same woman who brought me home from the eye surgery, and I trust her with my safety.

So, this very petite woman and I go flying through the city, all the way to the post office.  I step in, put my paper on the counter, and wait for my turn.  The woman behind the counter calls my house number, and I step up.  However, she keeps asking for another person.  I begin to fear that I have come to collect something that isn't mine.  Luckily, the man next to me can speak both languages far better than myself, and I let him know that I'm a renter, and that this is the owner of the home.  There's some conversation that I don't really understand, and he thinks about a translation for me.  I say, "She has to come get it herself." And he says, "Yes!"  No problem.  I grab the paper, get back on my moto, and get back to my village.  As I leave, another customer gives me a paper I dropped, very nice of them, and exit with several "Ka pun kas" on the way.

On the way home in the songtaew, I was standing on the back (where I quite like to be, since I can see everything), and yet another nice person tries to stand up and give me his seat.  It is a beautiful day in Bangkok today.  I politely decline, trying to explain with my remedial Thai and a bright smile that I like this place on the transit, and he sat back down with another smile.

Just then, this song came on, and I was unable to help myself from bobbing back and forth to the rhythm while riding through the city.  Fair warning: the video is a bit more risque than the song itself.

I was really feeling that burst of post-illness energy, and was able to make it to the other post office, where I mailed some letters, and the market, for some Rizza foods for summer, before I came on back home.  I even tried to pick up a dress at the tailor's, but she told me she had to go get some extra fabric to fix the momentous tear in the back.  So, another week before that is ready!

The rainy season has begun, bringing a more pleasant temperature to Thailand.  I don't have dengue and I finally feel myself again, and this day was too beautiful to not share.  I think I may need to see my favorite massage ladies today to celebrate the loveliness of the day, and the fact that I'll be setting food in my homeland in less than two weeks.

Goal Update: Money

One of the first blogs I wrote when I moved here was about money, and my current lack of it.

This blog, and the couple that are similar to it, inspired several comments from a variety of people.  Some people offered to front me some cash, some respected that there were words out there similar to their thoughts, some understood the place it was coming from.  Moving is hard.  Moving abroad is also hard.  I came over here with the expectation that I would be saving money, hence my goals, and those first months were quite the opposite.

But here we are, in June, and I'm reevaluating the goals that I had set, and seeing where I am now.

I've acquired a few extra jobs these last few weeks.  I'm tutoring for a neighbor kid, and also captioning videos online, a job which doesn't make much money, but gives me something to do besides sitting at home and watching television.  It's also entertaining; I've captioned for feminist MTV webcasts, alternative energy science videos, and a documentary about the Beach Boys.

These past two weekends, I've been spending only the money in my change cup.  I would go convert it to cash, but I would just be that a**hole who brings in a bunch of change to the bank and makes the ladies count it for me.  So, I've been using my coins to purchase my moto ride to the market, my coffee and water, and my rice noodle breakfast, making sure to use up all the coins that I've kept for the year.  The money stuck in there has bought two weeks' worth of breakfast routines, which is pretty nice.

All the other money I've used this week has been from my weekend tutoring gig.  My neighbor, who I rarely see, asked me a few weeks ago if I'd be willing to tutor her nephew, studying for the IELTS to get over to Australia.  We've worked on English pronunciation, and test taking skills, and reading comprehension.  Then, she buys me lunch, which is pretty neat.  I believe that people my age have an above-average appreciation for free foods.

I've been proud of myself this year.  I've saved some good money.

I saved enough to pay for eye surgery, and I couldn't be happier with the results.  I still have some astigmatism in my left eye, but they say that it may correct itself with more time.

I have saved enough to get myself home for summer, which is very exciting.

I have saved enough to pay down some of my student loans, which do nothing but stress me out.

Given the good news I had this week, I also indulged in a massage and a haircut, two desperately needed times at the spa that turned out to be well worth the money.  My hair and my neck were unhealthy in their own ways, and I've taken steps to make them better.  I also saw a movie, Spy, even though I accidentally purchased a ticket for the Thai dubbed version instead of the English one.

I've been thinking, though, that I don't usually try that hard to save money.  My colleagues seem to spend considerably more than myself, and I am often wondering why.  Granted, I live in a village far from the city center, which means my opportunities for certain activities are limited.  That will change in the fall; I'm moving into the city to be more able to acquire transportation and independence.  Hopefully, I can find an apartment that mimics the joy that I feel in my current place, and still provides me a community.

Speaking of that, I took a step to save money during Summer School (June) by moving into a friend's apartment.  She lives in an apartment complex basically across the street from school.  This saves me having to take taxis to and from school everyday, which would cost something like $15-$20 a day, along with the added stress of finding one in the morning.  The closest shopping center to school, and these apartments, is Mega Bangna.  It is mega, in every way.  There is an Ikea, a grocery, a department store, and wings full of the same types of stores.  I hate it there.

As I've been staying here, I have really wondered if I could have moved here.  The answer, undeniably, is no.  This helps me to realize what I'm looking for in my next apartment in the city.  I couldn't put my finger on what I really disliked about the place, not immediately.  It's great to be able to leave for school with 10 minutes to spare and be 5 minutes early.  It's great to have a movie theatre a cycle away from your house, with every possible type of food.  It's not great that I must brave the wall of noise in order to eat all the food.  It's not great that a ton of kids and coworkers live in the same building.  It's really not great that there's no sense of community.  I need community.  It's the small town girl in me.

I've gotten off topic.  Living in this apartment is saving me money, even if I am close to a mall with tons of things I want to eat in it.  There's very little I'm inclined to buy otherwise.  I did buy a hose and some canvases, but other than that I've been able to restrain myself.

I'm in a good place financially right now.  The extra work, despite not always working out fantastic hourly rates, makes me feel productive.  I did say I wanted to save every extra baht, and I have.

My goals for this summer with some additional cash:
1. Pay off at least one loan, and all the interest for all four loans.
2. Keep at least $2K in both Thai and US accounts.
3. Allot money to emergency saving fund.

Slowly, but surely, I'm getting on my feet and looking to pay off the momentous debt that the American education system has left me with.

LASIK: The part where I have surgery and then see everything.

Pre-leaving, annoyed by glasses part 1.

I can't believe it... a whole new world is before my eyes.

I opened my eyes this morning and I could see near, and far, and crisp, and detailed.  I can look out the window and read the license plate on my neighbor's car.  I haven't ever been able to see that well.  It's incredible.

So, Saturday.  That was the day of my surgery.  I decided to get into the city early to go see Avengers, which was awesome.  I hopped over to the clinic afterwards, a bit early, and got settled in for surgery.  Of course, I took a few pictures lamenting my glasses in preparation.  They fogged up more than once on the way, which annoyed me.  I couldn't see for the sunshine, which also bothered.  And they kept slipping down my sweaty face. No more, I say!

Gosh, I sure wish I had sunglasses.

I walked in and did some business to start everything out.  I gave the results from my HIV test (from last week).  I paid in cash my 100,000 baht, which was very fun to withdraw from the bank.  And when I asked for a phone charger because I was running low on battery, the fantastic Japanese woman found one for me.

I should have worn more comfortable pants, though.

They took me in to the Operating Space, and gave me some special shoes (they had to trade up to bigger ones because I have what my mother calls "canoe feet").  the nice nurse lady also gave me a surgical looking wrap that fit over my clothes and a sweet surgical cap.  She took my glasses and put them in my locker with all my stuff.  Oh, and before that, one woman served me a Valium to relax me.

Then, we walked into a bigger room with all these big armchairs in it.  I got sat down, reclined, and covered with a blanket.  They put numbing eye drops in my eyes over and over again.  The woman with the eye drops was obviously a pro with the eye dropping.  My consultant lady said that she had been working here for 10 years, and that is a lot of eye drops.

I got a 1,200 baht discount for paying in cash.

I was getting pretty loopy at this point, and I kept hearing the nurses chatting about "XL" which made me wonder if they were talking about my shoes.  Either way, I was there for awhile, getting eye drops all the time.  The doctor came over to talk about the surgery, telling me to relax, focus forward, and not squeeze my eyes.  I heard this often.

Then it was time.

They walked me into another room (seriously, how big is this place?) where the laser beams were.  I laid down on my back and tried to relax.  One of the nurses cleaned my face with iodine, then put what felt like a piece of clingy tape on my face.  It was some means of keeping my eyelashes open.  They cut little pieces open for my eyes, and mentioned that my eyelashes were particularly long and difficult.  Then, the doctor put a retractor on my eyes to keep them open even more.  This first laser was meant to create the flap on the cornea, and apparently is "the hard part".

Last ever photo of me with glasses on.  Pre surgery.

Gift bag 1 had valium, tylenol, face tape, and eye drops.
Gift bag 2 had more eye drops, eye shields, and q-tips.

It was very odd, I must say.  They put this thing really close to my face and then this robot voice came on and said something about suction.  Weird. I flinched right towards the end of the right eye laser, which scared the doctor, but all was still okay.  I managed to stay as still as I could on the left eye, so that was cool too.  This was quite unusual, and my high and nervous self kept telling that to the doctor.  Luckily, my personal consultant was holding my hand and everyone was reminding me to stay still.  They both laughed when I mentioned that practice makes perfect.

So then we got up and moved to another laser.  I laid back down once more, still with this odd tape on my face, and found my spot.  They moved this second laser onto my face, one with a bright circle of little LED lights, with a red and (maybe) green laser in the middle.  The doctor lifted up my flap, which made all the lights move and blur like when you're taking out contact lenses.  Then, the laser clicks on and whirrs, and you smell an unusual odor of singe.  The doctor puts the flap back on, and things go opaque and white.  She did the other eye in the same way, same process.  I was quite enjoying the look of the colors at this point.

#selfie

This whole laser to laser process took less than 10 minutes.  The laser parts were 10 seconds a piece, and the rest was just getting ready for the lasers.  The flaps the doctor was moving felt much longer, but they honestly weren't.  It was a super fast process.  By far the most painful part happened after it was all over; wen they removed that tape from my face.  That I did not enjoy.  They put me back in the giant armchair and put more drops in my eyes.  The doc also gave me some contacts that were supposed to keep the wound in check.

They gave me some sweet eye patches that made me look something like a bug, and that was it.  One hour from beginning to end.  Science.  I'm not supposed to squeeze my eyes too much or rub them.

I can see details through those little holes, and I'm pretty
darn stoked about that.

I had my favorite taxi driver, Khun Ann, pick me up.  She is one of the few people who knows my house, and someone I trust to get me from point a to point b.  She wasn't entirely sure why she was picking me up, and she seemed very worried to see my odd eye patches.  But, we talked and joked on the way home, then stopped at one of the few Mickey Ds drive throughs in the city, one quite near to my house.  I really wanted some junk food.

The eye patches made my depth perception quite poor, so Ann helped me into the house, and I went directly to bed.  Well, I took some medicine and went to bed.  It was one of the only nights in recent memory that I fell asleep without a book.

I fell asleep quickly, but I was in some pain in the night.  My eyes stung and felt dry and itchy.  I was awake in the middle of the night, aching as the numbing drops wore off.  I took some more medicine and thankfully fell asleep again, but it was an unpleasant sort of time.

Slightly on the achy side, but still able to read signs
and see what's going on.

But then I woke up again, with the light of day.  Even through the contacts making my vision blurry, and the eye patches where I can only see dots, I could see numbers across the street.  I could see details in the trees.  I could see the pictures on my wall.

I made some coffee and breakfast, and my buddy Joe came to pick me up.  He took me to the taxi stand since I wasn't sure I could ride a moto with any competence.  It gave him the idea to start a new business: the falang male escort service.  So, there's that.

Treating myself for the afternoon with a puzzle and some kitty
love.

I went back again for my day 1 appointment, where they took the eye shields off my face, took out my contacts (thank heavens, because they were uncomfortable), checked my vision, and made sure my wounds looked okay.  All done.  I went home and had a relaxing day, complete with nap.  I ended up a bit ill, though, my body aching, but I think this is unrelated.  I'm actually at home sick today because of a sore throat and some really aching flu joints, but otherwise, my eyes feel fantastic.

I have to put in lots of eye drops in the course of the next week, and my vision will fluctuate for the next week or two, but right now, I can see super well, and I'm incredibly thrilled that I've been able to accomplish this goal.  I can't wait to buy some cheap sunglasses and throw away the mess of glasses and contacts I've had.

Damn, My Eyes.

Watch the LASIK video, see the park.  Do you know how
distracted I was during this part?

Today it has been raining, finally bringing a measure of cool to the hot season here in the BKK.  I'm inspired to write a post about my recent medical experiences, especially since the heat and the humidity means I'm constantly pushing my glasses up my nose and wiping off the rain or fog.

I've wanted to get LASIK for years now.  Contacts and glasses have become the bane of my existence (not really, but let's say so for the current argument).  They are pretty annoying, always in the way.  They are also sometimes useful, hiding my eyes so no one can notice that I don't bother with makeup.

Either way, I made up my mind this month that now was the time, and so I promptly made an appointment at this place called TRSC in Bangkok, recommended to me by a coworker.  My appointment was last Saturday, following a Bangkok librarian's meeting in a similar part of town.  I'm sure that you're overwhelmed with the thrilling life that I lead overseas.

This place is gorgeous.

The place was easy to find, especially with the phone that gives me endless information for the taxi men.  The elevator in the building was less easy to find, but I eventually found myself on floor 6: TRSC.  I was late enough that I got a phone call right as I was about to get into the elevator.

Once I got upstairs, I was greeted by my personal consultant.  Little did I know that this woman would follow me around for the rest of my (nearly 3 hour) pre-op appointment.  She was amazingly useful.  They took my information, and I filled out my little registration form, which of course asked me about my hobbies: "reading, sports, internet."

My consultant and I walked around to all these rooms in this maze-like environment getting test after test that I had never had in the States.  The place and the people are pristine.  Each time I got a test, the technician would grab an ipad and ask me to rate their service with the 4 smiley face system I've seen in a few different airports.

Let me see if I can remember all the tests I took:
One flashing one that tested the cornea?
One where I had to look at a target picture (I had to do this one a couple times... I did it wrong).
One where the guy had a telescope-esque tool that fit on my eye.
Several where I had to read series of numbers and test my sight.
One with a blinking red dot.
Another flashing one that looked like it was designed by people on drugs.
One where the doctor lady looked at my eyes.
One where the doctor lady poked my eyes with a plastic stick (more pleasant than it sounds).

Coffee, Popcorn, Cookies.... what more do you need?

I'm sure I'm missing something.  They were all too efficient, moving me from room to room with the most polite people I've ever encountered.

They also had me watch this "movie" about LASIK and the risks and expectations so that I would be informed.  They sat me down at a computer, then offered me coffee and popcorn.  Yes, please.  I got seconds on the popcorn because it was a very long presentation.  I also found myself somewhat distracted given the computer room had a picture window that overlooked Lumphini park and Bangkok.

They also dilated my eyes, which I found made it so I couldn't see my phone with my glasses on, and couldn't see anything else with my glasses off.  That was entertaining.

The glasses graveyard.

Of course, one thing I had to do in order to get LASIK surgery is get an HIV test (because the one I got in August is too far back).  No problem.  I decided to check out the local hospital in my village, which was an experience in itself.  I feel like I experienced two levels of medical service in the Thailand.

This hospital... I have no clue the name... is full of humans, of various levels of working and busi-ness.  The majority are young women, almost always wearing this odd shade of blue polyester uniform and a hair piece with a bow and net to hold the large bulk of hair that many Thai women have.

I get in, sit down, get my weight and blood pressure checked (and why?).  One lady sits me down and proceeds to draw my blood (without gloves on).  Oh, boy. Never coming here again. Then they charge me about $25 for the time and effort, and while I wait I get the pleasure of watching the holiday festivities.

Today is the Coronation Day of the King.  The part that I caught of the holiday was the King getting pushed in his wheelchair down to the van.  I later catch a bit more with the monks, then some with him in the bit fancy room in Wat Phra Kaew.  It's full of tradition, and many nurses were watching the television raptly.

I grabbed my results after I did a bit of shopping (seeking some materials for Jade's Under the Sea party), and noticed the complete lack of privacy in the hospital.  My results from the last hospital came in a sealed package that I had to open like a paycheck, but this is just a little envelope with a piece of tape in it.  Ah well, it's no matter; I put them in a rush because I saw a large cloud looming and knew I didn't want to get caught in the storm.  I did anyway, but it was cooling and refreshing.

Surgery is on Saturday, so I will have the laser beams (as Joe calls them) fix my eyes in the best way possible. No more pushing up those glasses anymore!

Out with the Old

I have deleted more files than I ever thought possible.

So far, I’ve gone through all my pictures from the beginning of my digital photography until my recent move to America.  My goal was to delete anything that I wouldn’t enjoy: blurry shots, duplicates, extras, confusing shots, pics without a memory attached, anything. 

And so I have. It helped that I’m setting up my mac to take over for when my PC finally kicks the bucket (which may be sooner than I think).  I believe that I have deleted something in the neighborhood of 12,000 pics, likely more.  I am cleansing everything.

My records are clearer with my music, something that I’ve recently gone through.  I transferred everything to my mac with the hope that I’d be able to clean it up and go through it all.  I’m watching my PC struggle under the weight of all the files. 

I started out with 54.8 GB of music, 14,281 items in the library.

Now, my library has 26.45 GB of music, 4,836 items.

Part of that was doubles and duplicates.  Some was old podcasts, full albums, songs I’ve never listened to, everything.  I created a few new playlists, and am quite enjoying a collection that includes the songs that I would like to listen to.

Just this weekend, I worked on transferring documents from one computer to the other, and realized just how many documents I have that I don’t need.  I think I deleted about 1,500 documents.

Next step is to finish clearing the photos, maybe comb through them one more time.  I am going to clean up the metadata, so the names and places match.  Then, I’m going to back up everything on both computers as the only source of data.  No more doubles and triples of things.

Philippines Plus

It has been quite awhile since I’ve felt the urge to write.  Things have been mad at work, completely insane, and I typically get home ready to relax and do nothing else.  Since I’m on Spring Break, well, Songkran Break, I am beginning to feel rested and refreshed in a new and interesting way. 

He's writing my name. 

Since I last wrote in December, I’ve been to a few places.  I went to Hong Kong in January, chaperoning a trip for the Harvard Model Congress, a fancy Model UN run by Harvard University students.  Hong Kong had the best dumplings and noodles I’ve ever encountered.  It was a delightful trip, getting to know some of the students that I see in Model UN.

In February, I was blessed to host my guy from Pittsburgh.  Aaron came for our Chinese New Year break, and spent a week and change with me in my little place in Sammakorn.  We travelled around Bangkok, seeing the sights and enjoying the Chinese New Year festivities, which seemed to consist of mountains of incense burning and the biggest candles I’ve ever seen.  He and I even had a small burning ceremony in my house… which almost resulted in me burning something down.  The ancestors smiled upon me; nothing was destroyed but a small plant in my garden.

The effect is actually my camera suffering some water.

In March, I went to Singapore for another training from the school.  I went with the PE teacher, Faye, and the math guy, Leonard, and the science guy, Gabe.  We were in a neat neighborhood there, a much cooler place than the hotels I’ve stayed in previously.  We were a stone’s throw from Little India, Chinatown, and the Arab neighborhood, which put us in prime location for all the best food we could eat.  Sing Sing is an interesting place, and I feel a love/hate relationship with it.  It is the cleanest city in Asia, the best organized, the most sterile, and yet, there is culture there.  I enjoy the food.  I was able to go this time to the botanical gardens, and I adored it there. 

And now, it’s April, so I’m spending my Thai New Year in the Philippines (away from the Thais with their water guns and baby powder).  There isn’t a ton to see in Manila, as far as landmarks and places to visit, but I’ve met some fantastic humans here. 

Sidebar: I’m sitting here writing and flying to Davao, a place in the south.  This airline has a trivia competition mid flight for small gifts and prizes.  Cebu Airlines, the hilarious almost Air Asia of the Philippines.

My hosts, Yvette and Joey

I came to the Philippines with Yvette, my counselor coworker from Bangkok, and we met up with her guy, Joey, who is a DJ and photographer in the city.  My experience here so far is that he knows everyone in the city.  During the day, Yvette and I hit the city, visiting the old city of Intramurous, an old fortress with historical roots.  There’s a museum there for this guy Rizal, who is like the father of the Philippines, an all around awesome dude.  He was an educated man, a writer, an eye doctor, a traveller, and he wrote books and letters that criticized the corrupt church and the Spanish that were in power.  His writing coincided with the revolution that gained the Filipinos their independence, and he was executed for his words.  What I find amazing about this man is that he never lost his words.   His final farewell is translated into several languages at the museum, and he was a writer to the end.  He is the personification of the “pen is mightier,” with his words reaching throughout the Philippines, and still being respected to this day. 

Rizal is the man.

This hero shows to me the value that the Pinoys place on education.  He is a true hero, and people follow his example, placing value in curiosity and learning, something I’ve been missing in the country in which I live.  So many of the people I’ve met here are multilingual in English, and Tagalog, and other local dialects.  They are reading; they are aware of history and current events.  Of course, I’ve met some pretty amazing people here.

I met a woman who loves her pug, who has something of a relationship with an old and well-known family.  She is strong willed, and it was refreshing to spend time with her and her brutal honesty.

I met a man who owns a bar (or two or three) in Manila and seems to be the ringleader of the social scene.  He couldn’t stay in his chair for more than a minute without seeing someone he wanted to greet.

I met a Filipino born in Cali, whose accent was a curious mix of Cali English, Pinoy, and a few others thrown in.  He’s a chef, and he was lamenting the lack of authentic Filipino food in the city.  He also had a strong distaste for the word “foreigner,” which I found interesting.  I hold a similar opinion, because falang and barang often have connotations that aren’t positive.

In a "Tricycle"

It’s been a great trip, and I’m thankful that I’ve had someone to show me around so effortlessly.  I would never have had this experience in Manila otherwise.  Meeting people and finding the parties that we did would never have occurred.  Plus, one of Yvette and Joey’s friends from Brooklyn happened by as well.  She’s a midwife, and she was working at a birth clinic in the province for a few months.

I think my favorite place in the Philippines, though, was Davao.  Davao is a large city in the south, and it is spread out in as much space as possible.  From what I hear, it is a city full of these tough Pinoys, and they have the best check in the form of their mayor.  He sounds like one of the coolest politicians in the world.  He spent a few days riding around in taxis to double check that the men and the passengers were honest.  He reminds me of the old sheriffs in the western movies, keeping law and order in whatever way possible. 

While in Davao, I think I had one of the best days of recent memory… involving Breakfast, Birds, and Beach.

We met up with Yvette’s folks at this five star hotel on the beach, and enjoyed their buffet breakfast.  Anyone who knows me realizes that this is my favorite meal of any day.  Then, we got in a taxi and drove about an hour out of the city to the Davao Eagle Sanctuary.  Wow. What an impressive place.  Word is that our PE teacher here in Bangkok used to live and work there, so we were excited to find the guys he recommended to see if we could help feed the eagles.

This dude.

Sad day, though… they had both retired.  They tried to call them for us.  We politely declined.  Instead we walked about and enjoyed the nature that they had built into the sanctuary for these birds.  It was spacious and clean, well-cared for, and the birds were a joy.  They had one sitting out in public, just hanging out.  He had been shot at some point (because people like to hunt rare things for sport) and his right wing was destroyed. 

The trainer that we saw cared so deeply about the creatures and the education of the people coming to visit.  We saw him petting the birds, walking them out to meet people, and of course he took our picture with this cool dude.  When it was feeding time, he walked around with a small entourage of followers who were asking him questions and seeing the birds eat their morning snack.  He explained why they fed the sea eagles fish and not mice (sea being the operative word there).  He explained that old meat makes the birds sick, so they’re careful to feed them fresh food. 

I’m not often impressed with animal places in Asia, but this place is one to see.

Beach en route.

Then beach. We got back from the birds, suited up, and headed a hop over to the beach.  It looks like you’re never that far from the water while in the Philippines.  A quick ferry ride, and we were over at the beach resort.  My very pale skin was happy that the majority of the beach was in this shade of the rooftop overhang.  We had some food, swam, drank, swam, rinse, repeat.  I’m not typically a beach-goer.  I love sailing, enjoy snorkeling, but often find myself bored without something to explore.   This day I enjoyed; it helped that there was just an afternoon to spend, no more than a few hours to get the beach on.

We packed up when our time was up… then ended up waiting for the boat while a huge rainstorm blew in.  Getting caught in the rain was quite the experience, though; I was soaked for quite a while, and the taxi almost didn’t let us in for fear of his seats.

I highly recommend hanging out in the Philippines if you’re looking for some easy travel with a lot of beach and sunshine.  Bear in mind, though, the lesson that I learned: get to the airport with time to spare. The queues are stacked with huge families transporting what seems to be their entire life.