Coming home crazy

I just received a letter that I wrote myself at the end of my year spent in China. It was hilarious in its predictions of the future and specific in its recommendations. The things that the letter asked me to do haven't yet been done. I've got to get going. I think the list holds some keys to the reconciliation of everything that is swirling around in my head about the world. One of the things it asked me to do was tremendous amounts of reading. Something about living in China gave me this HUGE appreciate for the vast amounts of amazing reading (in English) we have here in the US, and I wanted my future self to take advantage of it.

I've been reading a book lately called "Coming Home Crazy", by a man who taught English in China right before T-square in 1989 (Bill Holm). The book is filled with very humorous and insightful essays about his mishaps, adventures and observations about a Minnesotan man bumbling around in a 6,000 year old culture. One section made me laugh a lot today and I'm going to type part of it here for your enjoyment.

"About twenty Minnesotans arrived in Xi'an when I did. Some were old, some middle-aged, some young, but all Midwesterners united by their fat, by continual complaining abuot it and by imaginative and expensive plans to do something about it. Unconsciously they had done the only useful thing possible. They arrived in China for a long strech. Dieting, planned exercising and the twelve-step program are about as effective against fat as slingshots against howitzers, or herbal teas against brain tumors. They pass conversational time and facilitate the exchange of goods but leave the bellly pressed snugly against its buttons. But China works. You walk or ride a clunker bicycle slowly for miles a day; you shiver indoors for six months and sweat for six; both activities dispose of your stomach; you each when you can and what you can and buy whatever you have enough language to ask for, if it is available, though probably not; you have diarrhea occasionally, a gift from the local bactieria, and therefore think intelligently about what you put in your mouth..."

This makes me laugh especially because many times I hear international students complaining about how much weight they have gained after coming to America. We try to warn them when they arrive, but they usually think we are joking. I also laugh because I just started employee wellness personal training (planned exercising, imaginative and expensive plans) and we'll see if I can work on my post-China pudge (cringe...) in the heart of cheese country.

Wish me luck people. I'm a far cry from those daily hour long power walks in 130% humidity in Nanchang.

24

Yesterday was my golden birthday. When I was little I looked forward to the day when I would be 24 on the 24th of September. I wondered what my life would look like, if I would even be alive, and what crazy thing I could do to commemorate the day. I remember thinking that going up in a hot air balloon might be an appropriate activity. Hahha... well.... on my actual golden birthday I didn't do anything very out of the ordinary except for lock my keys out of my car. But, I did receive a lot of love from family and friends and I had a wonderful day. I have decided that 24 hours is much too short to celebrate something as cool as turning 24, so I'm going to spread this celebration out over the whole year. 24 is going to be a good one. Please leave your suggestions on appropriate celebrations.

Also, to celebrate turning 24 I have posted some of the lyrics from Switchfoot's song 24. I've always loved this song, and while I think posting song lyrics can be really anti-climactic compared to hearing the actual song, I posted most of them. Check out the actual link to the song below too.

Twenty four oceans
Twenty four skies
Twenty four failures
Twenty four tries
Twenty four finds me
In twenty-fourth place
Twenty four drop outs
At the end of the day

Life is not what I thought it was
Twenty four hours ago

And I'm not who I thought I was twenty four hours ago
Twenty four reasons to admit that I'm wrong
With all my excuses still twenty four strong

But I want to be one today
Centered and true
I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
You're raising the dead in me

I want to see miracles, see the world change
Wrestled the angel, for more than a name
For more than a feeling
For more than a cause
I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You

And You're raising the dead in me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLagfciU_PU&feature=related

The Spirit Catches You

I just devoured a book by Anne Fadiman called "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down". It details the history of the Hmong people in the US (and their role fighting for the US in Laos), traces a compelling medical case, and the difficulties in intercultural communication between a Hmong family and their American doctors. I couldn't put it down. Wausau has a large Hmong population and those that I have met are really fabulous people. I'm glad I read this book because it gives me a more basic understanding of Hmong culture and history.

Choir is for Lovers

Last night Erik and I had our first night with the Wausau Lyric Choir. Its been two years (!) since I have sung in a choir. Its been two years too long.

We are going to perform The Messiah at The Grand Theatre Saturday, December 13th at 7:30.

The entire world in the middle of nowhere

I used to be afraid of North Central Wisconsin. Hunting, beer... football... We had been planning on Chicago. Music...art...culture... My imagination hadn't included a smaller city as an option. But its definitely growing on me. Of course, with a year under my belt and a growing community of friends I'm feeling more optimistic.

One thing I'm loving about Wisconsin is the people I meet at my day job (I teach music lessons- by night). As a program assistant with the International Student Office I spend my days supporting students from all over the globe. This week orientation began at UW-Stevens Point. The international students converged from 16 countries. I got to each lunch today with German, Vietnamese, Japanese and Canadian students (and that was just a my table). My favorite part was when a German student was complaining about how much English sounded like a hammer. He said German is more poetic.

Old friends from this year are coming back with tales of the their summers. Some of these stories are exciting (travels with family, being at the Olympic opening ceremonies and getting home at 3 a.m., job offers with theater companies in the U.S.), and others will be fearful (stories of sudden war in Georgia, earthquake recovery). When I moved back from China I never thought that I would remain in this cosmopolitan of a setting, but here I am. Suddenly, the entire world is in the middle of nowhere.