It’s been said that a picture is worth a thousand words.  You will probably get a thousand words because I must tell the back story of the photo I have chosen.  The photo I have chosen is simply a picture of 3 young girls.  It will be joined by two others as the story progresses.  Some of you have heard the back, back story which is where I will start, so you will have to hear it again or skip on by.

In August 2014, I packed up my life and moved to Paris, France.  For the first two months, I lived on Square Bolivar in the 19^th arrondissement.  I knew I would eventually need to move and from there I went to Montmartre on Rue Durantin.  This was a short walk from what had become my favorite café, Café Chappe.  It was my go-to place for un café or un verre de vin. I had become friends with Julie who worked there during my many visits to Café Chappe between 2013 and February 2015. She told me her dream was to move to Bali, Indonesia.  At some point, I promised that if she moved to Bali, I would visit her there.  I happened to return to Paris for a two-week holiday in July of 2015 and of course one of my first stops was Café Chappe.  Lo and behold, Julie was there.  She had indeed gone to Bali, but had returned to Paris because of her youngest son, they planned to go back to Bali at the end of the summer and suggested I should visit. She did and I did!

In February 2018, I made plans to visit Julie.  Travel to Bali is quite convenient and relatively inexpensive from the Middle Kingdom where I was living at the time. Julie was living in Seminyak which is a seaside community and was teaching yoga.  For the first part of my holiday I planned to stay in Ubud, which is more north and inland, as there were several things I wanted to experience in that area.  At the end of my holiday, I would go to Canggu and finally meet up with my friend from Paris.  That my friends is how I ended up going to Bali for the first time.

Now for the rest of the story… I had a homestay about a 20-30-minute walk from Central Ubud.  During my homestay, I had a room with a private bathroom in a family compound.  I say compound, because in Bali families usually live together.  Together, this means there are several free-standing homes often with a central kitchen in what is called a compound.  There is also always a family temple shared by all the households.  These compounds make up a tight-knit community.  The communities, in turn, make up a village.  Kenari House, my homestay was in the community of Banjar, Teges Yangloni the village of Peliatan.  My hosts, Ketut and Koming, and their two young daughters immediately made me feel like part of the family.

Finding them so open, I always seemed to have a dozen questions about Bali and Hinduism whenever I was with them.  As my time at Kenari House was nearing the end, I wasn’t quite ready to leave.  I extended my stay by one day before heading south to Canggu.  Staying this extra day turned into my first experience with a Balinese Ceremony.  There was a wedding in the community.  Koming invited me to attend with her family.  What a privilege to have this opportunity.  Koming loaned me a Kamen (sarong/skirt) so I would be appropriately dressed.  It seemed the entire community was there, and they welcomed me with open arms.  I didn’t get to learn much about the wedding ceremony as I was leaving that afternoon.  As I was saying my goodbyes to Ketut and Koming, she told me since I enjoyed the wedding so much, I should return in August.  She explained that Ketut’s mother had died in 2016 and every 3 years the community held a Ngaben or Cremation Ceremony.  She would be part of the ceremony this August.  Would I like to come back for the ceremony?  I told her I would be honored to return and would do my best to make it happen.

Indeed, I made my way back to Bali and the Ngaben Ceremony.  I always thought my experience camping at EBC (Everest Base Camp) and watching the sun set and rise on the mighty mountain couldn’t be topped.  My experience with this beautiful Balinese ritual, the emotion of first-hand exhuming a corpse, washing it and preparing it for cremation, witnessing the burning, understanding each step of the ceremony, and returning the ashes to the sea was truly overwhelming and something I will never forget.  I was included like family every step of the way. During this visit, I spent almost two weeks with my Balinese family.  I also knew I would return and it would be for an extended period of time.

I left China in July 2019, made a stop in Vietnam, and then straight to Bali and Kenari House which I would call my home until I headed back to the States at the end of November. I can’t begin to tell you what Ketut, Koming, Kirana, and Kiara and their extended family came to mean to me over the time I spent with them.  They included me in every aspect of their life and Balinese culture.  I celebrated important events, went to temple events, had my own Kebaya and Kamen made for the ceremonies, I learned to make canang sari (daily offering) and what the ritual stood for, I learned to prepare Balinese food with Ketut (he is a chef), and they welcomed my friends from the USA with open arms when they came to visit for two weeks.   I could go on and on, but they are truly like my family.

In May 2021, there was to be a special ceremony at the community temple.  When I left in 2019, I said I would return for the ceremony.  As we all know, the world stopped turning in early 2020.  Even by early 2021, it was becoming obvious that I would not be able to go to Bali in May of 2021.

On April 23, 2021, I received a photo in a message.  I saw Ketut looking like a young Jackie Chan and a small baby.  That photo I don’t have, but it was soon followed by Kirana and Kirara with baby Komang as seen above.  She was born on April 2^nd, but they wouldn’t be posting pictures publicly until after the three-month celebration or 105 days by the Balinese calendar.  There is a special ceremony called nyabutan or nyambutin.

You may be wondering why I consider this photo special.  They knew I was planning to visit for the temple ceremony in May and were keeping the baby a secret.  They didn’t tell me because they wanted to surprise me when they picked me up from the airport and introduce me to the newest member of “my family”.

I know that was a long story for a simple explanation, but Bai is my soul and my Balinese family will forever hold a special place in my heart.  I still have plans to return to Bali, maybe next year! That is why that photo means a lot to me.

This will be an easy topic because as I mentioned yesterday, I do Speaking Clubs as part of language learning.  Not long ago, the topic was “Guilty Pleasures – What Are Yours?”.  Of course, I’m going to borrow from my PowerPoint.  What is a guilty pleasure?  They’re activities, products, or habits that a person participates in because it brings them joy, yet it also makes them feel slight shame or embarrassment.  While the term feels a little contradictory, almost everyone has guilty pleasures that they occasionally enjoy.  These types of little indulgences make life more fun and bearable when you’re bogged down by a stressful work week or want to get out of your head for a while. It’s all about appreciating these guilty pleasures and not worrying about other people’s perceptions of them.  For my speaking group, I broke them down into food, beverage, habits, and quirky or unusual.

Let’s start with food.  Noodles bring me pleasure, but they aren’t my guilty pleasure since I have them several times per week.  I’m more of a savory food eater and I don’t like chocolate, however, I have discovered these yummy coconut crème filled “rurki” or tubes.  I almost have a pack of these around for whenever I do get a sweet tooth.

Sometimes when I make pickle pizza, I have leftover “sauce”.  My sauce is half sour cream, and half mayonnaise with pickle juice, salt, pepper, and dill weed.  Whenever I have leftover sauce, I like to get a bag of chips and eat them with the sauce.  I would say that is my food guilty pleasure.

Martini – icy cold, extra dry, slightly dirty with bleu cheese stuffed olives – I could drink one every day, but I don’t. I usually have wine when I drink.  Let me tell you when I do make that Beefeater’s martini, it tastes like perfection.

Other guilty pleasures when it comes to food and beverage would be eating popcorn in bed (I embarrass myself when I wake up and see I have been sleeping with kernels), having cold spaghetti for breakfast, and 30% full-fat cream in my coffee.  I do on occasion like to have Starbucks delivered on a Sunday morning.  And I am guilty of drinking beverages right out of the container and skipping the glass.  I did drink champagne directly from the bottle on New Year’s.

During my speaking club, I had Guilty Pleasures – Habits.  This segment included music, films, books, conveniences, and relaxation.  I don’t often have music playing ( I like silence) and I rarely watch movies but I was able to come up with a few things here.  Music-wise I would say it is playing songs like “Dancing Queen” (most Abba songs actually), “Chevy Van”, “Brandy”, “Windy”, “Seasons in the Sun”, and all those other cheezy songs.

The best I can come up with for movies are, “Dirty Dancing”, Pretty Woman”, and “Flashdance”.  When it comes to books, once in a while I will read a Nancy Drew book or even a Dr. Seuss.  What can I say, I’m a kid at heart and I don’t like romance novels.  Now, conveniences and relaxation are where I shine.  Living in a shared flat, having a cleaning person is a given.  Now in China, it felt like a guilty pleasure.  Even more so in Warren, Ohio when I would have someone come over and clean my house.  Having my hair washed – I love having someone wash my hair, every so often, I go to a salon just to get my hair washed – heavenly!  Taking an Uber instead of public transportation can feel like a guilty pleasure.  When it comes to relaxation, I am a master…sleeping until noon, pajamas all day, naps, and not leaving the house or talking to anyone for two days.

No matter where I am on the planet, I search out massage.  Be it foot, chair, or full body, the ultimate relaxation guilty pleasure is a massage.  And my quirky guilty pleasure is having way too many colored pencils, pens and markers.

There you have it.  My so-called guilty pleasures.  But, I am going to now tell you the truth.  I don’t have any guilty pleasures, because if something brings me pleasure, I don’t ever feel guilty about it!

So now I’m going to put pajamas on, eat popcorn in bed while sipping a martini, and read something mindless.  Peace Out!

Monday, March 11, 2024 – Timeline of my day.

I like to stay up late and also sleep late.  Staying up late to me is going to bed anytime between 24:00 and 02:00.  Sleeping late is getting up between 09:00 and 11:00.  This is only a problem on Monday and Wednesday mornings.  I get up at 06:00 because I have early classes at 07:00. Of course, working from home, I really don’t need to get up this early.  I get up this early because I like to linger with a hot cup of coffee, do the Wordle, do a couple of other word puzzles, and mentally prepare myself for the day/week ahead. I get my coffee pot and my day’s lessons ready the night before.  Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I try to go to bed by midnight.  On Sundays, I never make it before 01:00 because Thursdays start my downhill cycle and it is almost always between 01:00 and 02:00. Which means I only get between four and five hours of sleep before my 06:00 wake-up on Monday.  Why I am telling you this? You probably don’t even care, but, today’s timeline isn’t my usual Monday schedule.

We have a client of my language school, Eklektika, for whom we offer additional language practice.  These are called Speaking Clubs and they allow a maximum of four participants to have an hour-long conversation on a given topic.  I sign up each month to lead some of these groups.  I enjoy them because my topics almost always deal with travel or food. I’ll get back to why these are important in a minute.

Usually, on Mondays, I have three classes in a row starting at 07:00 and finishing at 09:45.  Because I don’t get the seven to nine hours of sleep that I like, when these classes finish, I take a morning nap for an hour or two to catch up.  When I get up from my nap I make a late breakfast or an early lunch.  I also have a few hours to run and do errands and go to the market before my 15:30 afternoon class.

That is my usual Monday morning/afternoon timeline.  Today, no nap for me.  I went to bed at 01:30, woke up at 06:00, and went through my morning ritual of coffee and word games.  I had my three regular morning classes, finishing at 09:45. I filled in my online documentation for these classes (attendance and material covered). These classes were followed by four Speaking Clubs at 10:00, 11:00, 13:00, and 14:00.  I opened my email for my Zoom links for the Speaking Clubs.  I then noticed there had been a change in the original schedule, the 11:00 group had been canceled.  To be honest, I was happy because I wasn’t looking forward to eight classes today.  After the first Speaking Club, whose topic was “All Inclusive Holidays” ended at 11:00, I heated up leftover spaghetti for lunch.  That left me an hour but I dared not take a nap, you know how I love my sleep.

I answered a couple of emails and then reviewed my PowerPoint presentations for the next two Speaking Clubs which were, “Airports – A Blessing or a Nuisance?“ and “Historical Sights around the Mediterranean”. Those two groups went great and we had a lot of interesting conversations and finished at 15:00.  I took the next half an hour to complete my online documentation for those and prepared for my 15:30 lesson.  After that lesson ended, I made baked broccoli and rice casserole with kielbasa and topped with cheddar for dinner.  Chatted with my flatmate while it baked, then we both took bowlfuls and had dinner.

Here it is 18:30 and I’m working on day twenty-two of the writing challenge. What does the rest of my timeline look like?  When I finish writing, I will shower and put on pajamas.  Then I will get my coffee set up for the morning, and make sure all my lessons are prepared.  I’ll pack away any leftovers the guys didn’t eat and tidy the kitchen.  I can’t go to bed without doing two things…getting my coffee set up and making sure the kitchen is clean.  The rest of the night is hit or miss, I’ll scroll Facebook, read a little, work on memorizing country flags and capitals (I do this every night in bed), and maybe have a snack.

There you have it, my timeline for Monday, March 11, 2024. Nothing too exciting today, we’ll see what tomorrow brings.

The dictionary tells us that if you miss something, you feel sad because you no longer have it or are no longer doing or experiencing it.  During my travels a lot of “do you miss” questions come up in conversation.  Do you miss your family and friends?  Do you miss the United States?  Do you miss any food from home?  Then there is the “I miss you” comment,  or the “we miss you, don’t you wish you were here with us?” question.

I moved to Poland in February 2020 after being home in Warren, Ohio for a couple of months.  During that time I had been going to trivia night with a bunch of girlfriends. One night I stayed up late so I could “join” trivia one night via video chat.  This scenario ended the night:  The phone got passed around and all the I love you; I miss you’s were said. Near the end of the video chat, someone asked, “Don’t you miss us and wish you were here”?  Well, a couple of seconds passed, I didn’t answer, and my friend Teri said, “Look at that face, that tells it all”.  All I could do was shrug my shoulders and give a half of a smile.  I thought about my response or should I say non-response for a couple of days.  Was it snobbish?  Does it seem like I don’t like life in Warren/America and the rest of the world is much better?  Should I have just given the normal, expected response of, “I miss you too”?  No…I know my friends know me better than that. They know I love to travel and it is what I want to do currently.  I am living my dream.

The first time I left for an extended period, I went to Paris, France. Honestly, I didn’t miss anything while I was there.  I didn’t miss any food from home, I didn’t miss my stuff, I didn’t miss my family or friends.  When I arrived back in Warren, Ohio, I discovered more than anything I missed the adventure of living abroad.  I seriously missed being gone and soon made plans to move to China. During those first six months and the three and a half years that followed, I thought I missed things, especially cheese. Seriously, more than anything, I missed cheese.  This, by the way, is what made me come up with a possible title when I write my book…” No Cheese in China”. I quickly learned that I could live without these things.  The things I was seeing, doing, eating, and experiencing far outweighed what I thought I was missing.  I also realized that some of my feelings were really FOMO – Fear of Missing Out.  Missing out on family and friend’s life events.  Missing that wedding, that “special” birthday, that funeral, that birth…but the more I thought about those things the more I knew that my family and friends understood that I could still love them without being geographically near.  They know I share in their joys and sorrows. They know I am a text, a Facebook post, an Instagram picture, or a video chat away.

I am getting good at not answering the question at hand.  Although, I did once write a blog post, which I did call “No Cheese in China”, about what I would and wouldn’t miss about China.  Two things I do miss about China are the food and $6.00 per hour massages.  I’m not sure I will be able to eat Chinese food back in the USA, it is nothing like what you eat there.  And well, who wouldn’t miss $6.00 massages, unless, of course, you don’t like a massage?

 

What do I miss?  Do I miss my parents?  I would be lying if I said yes.  Now before you judge, let me explain.  I loved my parents dearly, but you always know they won’t be around forever.  Yes, in my opinion, mine were gone too soon.  In the beginning, you find yourself going to pick up the phone because you want to tell them something, but you can’t.  There is always something you wish you would have asked them and now it’s too late.  As time goes on, if I’m honest, no I don’t think about them every day.  I think about them at random moments…something they would have liked or something reminds me of one of them.  For instance, a whiff of Old Spice after-shave worn by a man who passes me in the market can bring a tear to my eye.  It can be something unexpected that sparks a memory.  So while I have gotten used to them being gone, what I miss is not being able to share an event, a thought, or something funny that happened.

I am sitting here thinking about all the ways I should answer this question, “I miss my parents”, “I miss my brother and Lori”, “I miss my condo”, “I miss my stuff”, “I miss my friends”, “I miss my city”, “I miss my country”, or “I miss my bed”.  None of them seem to work for me.  Then, I thought about saying that I miss my youth, but I don’t.  I wouldn’t want to be twenty-something again.  I’m happy where I am right now in my life, although, I do say I think 40ish was a good age.

Now for my final answer…what do I miss?  I miss the days when my body didn’t ache when I got out of bed.  Or it didn’t take me a few minutes to get my “sea legs” after sitting for a long time. I miss the time when my back didn’t ache after standing at the kitchen counter fixing a meal or washing dishes.

You’ve probably seen the meme that says, “One minute you’re twenty-one, staying up all night drinking beer, eating pizza, and doing sketchy stuff just for fun.  THEN in the blink of an eye, you’re fifty (or sixty-one) drinking water, eating salad and you can’t do any sketchy stuff because you pulled a muscle putting on your socks.”

So, lame as it may be…I don’t miss being twenty-one, but I miss how my body looked, felt, and rebounded at twenty-one.

 

This sounds like one of those trendy interview questions.  I’m not sure where I will be in five months let alone five years.

The best way to tackle this is to first look where I was five years ago –  March 2019.  It’s a good thing I am a Facebook whore because I only had to go back and look at my profile to know where I was and what I was doing.

It’s a bit interesting that five years ago I was preparing to exit China.  Not so different from what I am doing right now except I am leaving Poland.  I can’t explain what it is, but I get to a point where I just wake up one day and decide it’s time to move on. Not that I make any decisions at that exact moment, but I have questions I ask myself.

In late 2018 and early 2019,  I started asking myself, “Do you want to be in Dong’e this time next year?”.   That answer came fairly easy, “as much as I love my life here, no, this time next year I can’t picture myself in Dong’e”.  Next question, “Do you want to be in China?”.  That was a little more difficult to answer, I didn’t know. Then, if I decided to answer the “Do you want to be in China?” question with no.  The next question was, “Do you want to be in Asia?”.  For the next several weeks I thought a lot about those questions.  I made the decision that I would leave Dong’e at the end of the school year which is July 2019.  I did know I had to be in Warren, Ohio on January 9, 2020, for the grand re-opening of the Robins Theatre and that the last time I was in the USA for Christmas was 2012.  I also decided I would go home for the holidays.  After the Robins opening, I would be free to make a long-term commitment to teaching somewhere and I was leaning toward SE Asia and Vietnam.

Over the first few months of 2019, I started to devise a plan.  The last time I was in Saigon, I met a young University student (Le Minh).  She has often asked me to come to Vietnam and teach English.  So, upon leaving China, I decided my first stop would be Vietnam and investigate job opportunities.  From Vietnam, Bali is just a hop, skip, and a jump.  I had friends in the States who had mentioned joining me in Bali in August.  So, I then decided to head to Bali after Vietnam.  Also, having friends in Bali, I decided to investigate an extended stay, meaning teaching/volunteer opportunities.  I would have about a month of R&R, then my friends would come for a couple of weeks.  After that, I found a School for Special Needs students, Yayasan Widya Guna, in Bedulu, Bali where I could volunteer for 6-8 weeks.  After a few more weeks of doing nothing but enjoying life at Kenari House, I would head back to Vietnam before returning to the States.

That sounded like a perfect plan to me.  Of course, you know what they say about the best-laid plans of mice and men.  Thinking I would return to SE Asia, I browsed opportunities on several ESL teaching websites.  At the time, I was also researching my upcoming trip to Paris in May.  So even though I had my sights set on Vietnam,  just for shits and giggles, along with SE Asia, I browsed opportunities in Paris and Europe in general.  After putting in my criteria, a company called English Wizards based in Warsaw kept popping up.  It looked interesting, a young company with hopes to expand outside of Poland, so I contacted them.  We talked back and forth for a couple of months, and I explained it would be almost a year before I would be available.  Long story short, on April 16, 2019, I committed to relocating to Poland end of January 2020.

As I sit here in Warsaw, Poland where I have lived for over 4 years, I started asking myself similar questions last year.  Do I want to be in Poland this time next year?  Do I want to go back to Asia?  Do I want to look for another ESL position and settle somewhere else?  When I say I don’t know where I will be in 5 months (other than hopefully finishing up camp in Bulgaria), it’s hard to even think 5 years down the road as I still don’t have all the answers to my questions.  Not that I don’t love my life in Poland, but no, I don’t want to be living and working in Poland this time next year.  Yes, I want to go back to Asia, but not to work.  I would like to visit Xiashan and see if it is still a small village not on the map.  I would love to see Marlon and his mom in Qingdao and visit my littles in Dong’e.  Will it happen?  Maybe!  I don’t want to look for another ESL position or settle anywhere next year.  When I do leave Poland, the only definite place in my itinerary is Azerbaijan.  I’m not sure where the road will lead from there, but as David Bowie said, “I promise it won’t be boring.”

I just wrote nine hundred words and haven’t answered the question.  These last four years in Warsaw have gone by in a flash.  The vision of myself I see in five years is this… My condo in Warren, Ohio will be embellished with mementos of my travels.  My hammock will be slung in the corner next to my floor-to-ceiling window so I can sip my coffee or wine while reading.  My Tibetan Prayer Flags will be hung between the windows over my fireplace.  Under the glass on my coffee table will be currency from all the countries I have visited.  The walls will be adorned with canvases of photos I have taken and there will be a story to go with each one.  At night I will fall asleep under the quilt I brought back from Bali.

In the morning maybe I will make Turkish coffee in my cezve or ibrik that I brought back from Istanbul.  Then I will sit at my desk and write.  Or I will be getting ready to head off to tell my story to young people or anyone who wants to listen.  I will meet friends for drinks or have small dinner parties at my home with my favorite dishes from around the world.  Then I will start to get the itch for Paris or to visit Warsaw or take off for some far-off place I haven’t been.  The travel bug will kick in and I will have to go, knowing when I return, I will pick back up right where I left off.

“Why do you go away?  So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors.  And the people see you differently, too.  Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” From “A Hat Full of Sky” by Terry Pratchett

 

I am a huge list-maker.  Looking at my desk right now you will find my “To Do” list.  My to-do list doesn’t have deadlines.  It is just the things I need to accomplish soon, like answering emails, changing the wall in front of my desk, working on my spreadsheet of countries, practicing my flag challenge, and so on.

I keep a list of books I have read.  This is mostly done, through Goodreads but I also have a written list of books that have had an impact on me.  I also keep a list of books I want to read.  Again, mostly on Goodreads, but also a physical list that supersedes the Goodreads list.

In one of my journals, I keep a list of words I like. It was a thirty-day challenge of a word a day.  I also keep a written list of words or phrases I like, some are English some are Polish, and some are from other languages. For instance, “Dolce Far Niente” ~ Italian for the sweetness of doing nothing.   One of my favorite Polish words is “chrząszcz” and it means beetle.  I recommend putting it in google translate to hear the pronunciation.

 

Another favorite from Polish is the word for winter – “Zima”.  There is however a story behind this word.  Back in my younger days, there was a popular malt beverage that was introduced in 1993 by Coors.  It was marketed as an alternative to beer and I loved it.  As some of you may remember, it was called Zima.  Then there are some English words/phrases which have gotten lost in translations.  My kids in China called a home aquarium a “fish house” and they called an aquarium that you go to visit a “Water Zoo”.  Believe it or not, many languages don’t have separate words for fingers and toes.  I can’t tell you how many times I have heard the word “foot finger”.

In my journal, I keep a list of quotes.  It also started as a thirty-day challenge, but I am constantly adding to it.  My journal lists go on and on.  I have a list of Chinese spices, herbs, etc., that I consider essential in my kitchen.  I have a list of things I love about Paris.  I have a thirty-day thirty-songs list.  There is a list of countries I have visited and another with UNESCO sites I have seen.  I have a list that is just called “foodstuff” and a list of gins I have tried.  I think you get the picture.

Now, let’s get to the subject at hand….a bucket list… a list of things that I haven’t done before but I want to do before I die.  Of all the lists I keep, would you believe, I don’t have a written bucket list and I have never made one?  I have a few ideas in my head but nothing on paper.  Some of the most popular items on bucket lists have to do with travel.  From way back when, for me, that would have been Paris, the Great Wall of China, and the Pyramids.  I have nothing pressing on my travel list because lately I get an idea and I just go.  But don’t worry, for the sake of this blog I will come up with a couple of places.

Here goes:  Wendy’s Bucket List

1. Be able to identify all the flags of the World
2. Name all the capitals of every country
3. Set foot on one more continent (I have North America, Europe, Asia, and Africa)
4. Visit China and Bali again
5. When back in Warren, Ohio I want to tell my story to young people and encourage them to take that gap year or at least travel somewhere different from what they are used to
6. Visit Azerbaijan and at least 3 “Stan” countries
7. Do a WorkAway in India
8. Continue to understand my purpose for existing and fulfill it
9. When in India, visit Dharamshala (where the Dalai Lama lives) and try to be in one of his audiences
10. Not only tell my story but write it

I have written diaries and journaled most of my life.  I started my first blog on MySpace.  When I moved to Paris I started “Down the Rabbit Hole.”  Unfortunately, it was lost when I didn’t maintain my domain.  I started “Down the Rabbit Hole” again in February 2017 and have been pretty faithful for seven years.  Of the ten items I listed above, numbers five and ten are the most important to me. For a long time, I have felt that my PFE (purpose for existing) has been to tell my story. Not just from my years traveling, but also my life story as I know that experiences in my childhood have impacted my life today.  Everything I was is intertwined with who I am now and how I face whatever life puts in my path.  It’s been an amazing ride and it’s not over.  One thing I hope I have been able to share with my blog and one day in a book is how many beautiful, kind, people there are in the world and what they have taught me.   Maybe someday, someone will have seen something through my eyes and it will encourage them to follow their dreams.

I grew up in a “Christian” household, Presbyterian to be exact.  Mom and Grandma taught Sunday School, sang in the church choir, were elders, deacons, etc.  You get the picture.  My dad knew the bible inside and out.  He read me bible stories as bedtime stories and I remember “Old Rugged Cross” and his favorite, “In the Garden” being played as part of the Sunday morning repertoire on the antique green stereo console in our living room.  But Dad only attended church on Easter and Christmas or a special event in which we (me or my brother, Mark) might be participating.  He said he didn’t need to sit with hypocrites to justify his faith.

I have been blessed to live and travel to many places around the globe that don’t practice Christianity.  I’ve heard the calls to prayer in many countries, visited mosques, and listened to the prayers of those of the Islamic faith.  I was in Qatar and Dubai during Ramadan.  I have sat with monks in Buddhist temples.  I have been in synagogues and attended a Jewish wedding ceremony.  I attended a service of Caodaism (cultivating self and finding god in self) in Tay Ninh, Vietnam. I have sat in monasteries in Tibet and read the teachings of the Dalai Lama.  I have been to a Hindu cremation ceremony in Kathmandu, Nepal which follows closely to the Hinduism of India.

In Bali, Indonesia I have attended many Balinese Hindu ceremonies which differ from those of India.  I have witnessed the exhumation of a human body for cremation (Ngaben).  I’ve been to a Nelubulanin/Nyambutin ceremony which is like our baptism and is performed for a baby when they reach three months (105 days) by the Balinese calendar.  I’ve been to the temple ceremony of Odalan which is the anniversary of the Temple and I have had the opportunity to pray at Pura Besakih or the Mother Temple.  I was overcome with energy and couldn’t hold back the tears.  As I sat in a drizzle of a cleansing rain, my guide talked me through the prayer ceremony.  He lit the incense (the smoke takes our prayers to heaven) and explained what to do with the flowers in the offering.  After the prayer service, the Priest came and blessed me with holy water and gave me holy water to drink.

The guide then one by one took 9 strings of color and wound them into a bracelet.  It is to be worn until it falls off or breaks.  Peace, energy, harmony, balance, gratitude, and spirituality are just a few of the emotions I felt.  I still wear the bracelet (it has been 5 years) and it reminds me daily to be thankful for the blessings I have received in life.

Watching the sunrise/sunset on Mount Everest was a very spiritual experience.  Was it a Christian experience?  I honestly have to say no.  Did all those things like God and “How Great Thou Art” go through my head?  Yes!  But I was on the mountain with Tibetan Buddhists, so I got to experience spirituality from their point of view.

Growing up Christian, we heard stories of missionaries in far-off lands converting these “pagans”, “non-believers” and even those of other faiths to Christianity.  Through my travels, I have come to question this practice and ask, “Why”?  Why do we in the West think that our religion (Christianity) is the one true and right religion that everyone else should follow?

I must admit that living abroad and experiencing different religions firsthand has changed me.  I haven’t denounced my Christianity, but I find myself being open to accepting the beliefs of other religions.  Born and raised a Christian I have always believed in a greater being, namely God.  As Christians, we are taught to be Godly in our everyday life, say our prayers before bed, etc. but, truth be told it is “seen” mostly on Sundays.

Traveling solo and living in different cultures has allowed me to look deeper into myself and my personal journey of spirituality.  The first place I really felt a pull of spirituality was Tibet.  I had such a peaceful feeling there that I struggle to find the words to describe it.  There was something magical about Tibet.  I am still drawn to that culture, but the connection I feel to Bali is overwhelming.  I have never experienced a culture that is more welcoming or a people that always seem happy and peaceful.

The National Motto of Indonesia is “Bhinneka Tunggal Ika” or Out of Many, One, or Unity in Diversity.  The full motto states, “It is said that the well-known Buddha and Shiva are two different substances; they are indeed different, yet how is it possible to recognize their difference in a glance, since the truth of Buddha, and the truth of Shiva are one?  They may be different, but they are of the same kind, as there is no duality in truth.”

Am I still a Christian?  That’s a tough one. I am not trying to turn this into a religious debate but, my views on Christianity have been drastically altered.  I think it is hard for Westerners to admit maybe Buddhism, Hinduism, and other religions aren’t so far off from Christianity.  Am I a Christian?  I am going to answer yes, but my Christianity has become more spiritual.  The language all over the world is different, why not religion?  Are we all worshipping the same “God”?

I will leave you with this, author unknown, ”Travel, because you have no idea who you are until you experience yourself through different people and realize we are all the same”

I guess this was to be expected after yesterday’s “What Makes Me Happy?”.

Merriam-Webster tells us sad [ sad ] is an adjective meaning affected with or expressive of unhappiness.

If you spend any time in Bali, you will probably notice statues wearing a black and white checked cloth called a saput poleng which symbolizes the coexistence of opposites and the ultimate goal of harmony.  The Balinese people believe that joy will always be balanced by sorrow, and that good and evil exist in the world and everyone.  They embrace differences because they create balance and harmony.  Following this theory, you can’t experience happiness if you have never known sadness. Think about it, without sadness, happiness has no meaning.

Today’s topic might be even more challenging than yesterday’s.  I won’t say that I never experienced sadness because that would mean I’ve never been happy, and I like to believe I am happy most of the time.  So what makes me sad?

I think it was easier to feel sadness, believe it or not, as a kid.  I’m not talking about deep, sorrowful, depressive sadness, but the sadness that comes when you’re six and you misplace your favorite toy.  Or you’re ten and your Little League team loses.  How about when you get your first B on your report card, and you have always had straight A’s?  Then there was that time one summer when you got a new bathing suit, and you couldn’t wait to wear it on Sunday because you were going to the Elk’s Shore Club on Lake Erie in Ashtabula, and it ended up raining.  That all-important Warren, Ohio football rivalry, Harding vs. Reserve.  How sad we were when our team lost.

There’s a different kind of sadness that comes with being an adult.

I was sad when my friends came to visit me in Bali and I took them to visit Pura Lempuyang, the Gate to Heaven.  I was sad because when I was there just a year and a half earlier, it was just an important temple for the Balinese people.  When I took my friends, there was a two to three-hour wait to take a photo at the now Instagram-famous Candi Bentar or Gate.  People were surprised/disappointed to discover there was no lake or water at the gates but merely a camera trick of placing a mirror beneath the camera lens so that the picture appears to be reflected on non-existent water.  Not only that, but you must hand your phone over to a “local” photographer with a donation so he will snap your photo and you get 3 poses.

I find the Gate to Heaven stunning without the Instagram sham of water.  It made me sad that most people were there to get that all-important Instagram shot and forgot or maybe didn’t even know that Pura Lempuyang is one of Bali’s six major temples known as Sad (six) Kahyangan (place of Gods) or that it is only one of seven temples in the complex.  It made me sad that people were disrespectful to the fact that it is a sacred place to the Balinese.

I was sad every time I left one of my schools in China.  Sad, because you say, “I’ll come to visit”, instead of saying goodbye, but deep down you know, it’s goodbye.  You get through that by thinking of the quote from Dr. Seuss, “Don’t cry because it’s over.  Smile because it happened.”

I was sad when I left Bali, but happy I was going to Ohio for the Robins Opening.  I’m sure I will be sad the day I leave Poland, but excited for what awaits me.

In my adult life, the thing that has brought me the most sadness is death, the death of my parents, but not in the way you might think.  Death is always sad, but it is a part of life.  The saddest thing about their death is what they have missed.  It made me sad that they weren’t there on January 9, 2020, sitting in the front row of the mezzanine (my dad always liked to sit in the balcony).  My dad letting out a whistle when Mark stepped from behind the curtain.  I’m sad they never got to see what he accomplished in downtown Warren and across the globe.  It makes me sad that they never got to see me follow my dream.  I guarantee they would have been to Paris, China, Bali, Poland, and anywhere in between to visit me.   Please, none of that bullshit, “Oh, they were there”, or “They have been with you”.  Nah, not the same.  Not only that, but I’m also not sure I want them with me all the time or seeing everything.  I mean seriously, if “they were there” on opening night, what about that time I got a little freaky with so and so?  Nope, best they aren’t around.  I will settle for being sad that they weren’t there.

 

Anyways, life has its ups and downs, its happiness and sadness, and somehow through it all, life is pretty damn good.

Dictionary.com tells us that happy  [ hap-ee ] is an adjective meaning delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing; or characterized by or indicative of pleasure, contentment, or joy.

Simple, right?

I’ll tell you what isn’t simple.  This thirty-day writing challenge.  I thought as the days went by it would get easier.  Boy was I wrong.  While I was sipping my morning cup of cardamom coffee before my classes started, I was not sure where or how to start today’s topic.  I first returned to a blog I wrote in January 2018, “Wendy and the Search for Happiness”.  I wrote it because I had just watched the movie, “Hector and the Search for Happiness”, not because I was searching for happiness myself.  Honestly, I am pretty happy most of the time.  I considered comparing Hector’s list, The Lessons on Happiness, with my life, but I kinda, sorta did that in the blog.  Then I thought about creating my own “lessons”, but that was way too much thinking.  Since I was about to teach an English class, I looked up “Happy” Idioms.  My students love idioms; Happy Camper, Happy as a Pig in Mud, Happy Go Lucky, and Happy as a Lark are a few, but nothing struck me.  So I decided to jot down a list of things that make me happy.

Two things immediately came to mind.  It was a drizzly morning, and I was enjoying my coffee.  Not only does the smell of coffee (especially this cardamom coffee) make me happy, but so does sipping it in the morning while it is raining.

Having lots of time to read makes me happy.

Auguste Escoffier said, “Good food is the foundation of genuine happiness.”   Noodles make me happy.  They can be lamian, rice, ramen, udon, or just plain spaghetti.

Snail-mail makes me happy.  I wrote this list while I was sipping my joe and when I went out this grey afternoon, I had a sunny yellow envelope in my mailbox from Warren, Ohio.  It also may have made it in world record time…a mere 9 days across the pond.  Texts, emails, and video chats are great, but it always brings a smile to get a surprise card or letter in the mailbox.

Friday nights make me happy.  A shared flat wasn’t my full-time plan.  I moved into my current flat thinking I would eventually move to a studio…then Valeria happened followed by Zaka and Tarlan.  I came to love my shared flat and the cast of characters that have come and gone.  Soon, Friday nights found me making pizzas, drinking wine or martinis, and sharing the evening with a group of 20-somethings playing card games, listening to Frank, Elvis, and the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack, dancing, laughing, and general craziness.

Creating art, whether in my journals, making my own stationery, doodling, adult coloring books, or on random pieces of paper, makes me happy.

I introduced my flatmates to pickle pizza.  I also make random desserts with French pastry.  It made me very happy when the guys asked me to teach them how to make pizza and pastry.  And, yes, sometimes they even get busy in the kitchen.

An icy cold, slightly dirty Beefeater martini with a bleu cheese stuffed olive makes me happy.

Somewhere along the way, you may have picked up on the fact that I love Paris.  Over the years, I have met friends and family in La Ville Lumiere.  It makes me happy to share and enjoy the city I love with them.  To be honest, it’s not just Paris.  I have had friends and family join me in China, South Korea, Bali, Morocco, and Poland.  It makes me happy to show them a little about the places I have considered either home or a favorite place.

Sleep…sleeping makes me happy!  I’m good at it too.

I have a severe case of Wanderlust.  Planning my next trip makes me happy.

Bottom line….my life makes me happy!

Here we go with “favorite” again.  I’m not a big moviegoer.  I can’t tell you the last time I was in a movie theatre.  My best guess would be when I was in China.  In four years, I know I went twice.  I did, however, watch more movies in China because I had a teaching assistant, Alice, who would sometimes spend Friday night at my apartment to be there for Saturday morning lessons.  She loved watching English movies, so we often had movie nights.

I don’t have a subscription to any streaming service because I don’t watch enough movies or series to make it worth my while.  In total, I may watch 4 to 6 movies per year (for the last 10 years, but hey, I guess that adds up).  I do have a bunch downloaded to my external hard drive that I occasionally watch, or I use one of those “Napster”-like sites to download.  Shhhh…don’t tell.  Then there are those shady sites that you must back out of ads in order to watch a movie, I use those once in a while too. Again, shhhhh….don’t tell.

I can tell you my dad’s favorite movie was, well he actually had two, “The Quiet Man”, and “Song of Bernadette”.  I went through a phase when I thought “The Exorcist”, “Friday the Thirteenth”, etc. were cool.  Not so much anymore.  There was also a time when I loved the classics, with “Casablanca” and “Gone with the Wind”  topping the list.

 

Of all the decades of my life, I probably watched the most films in the 80s.  Admit it, that was a great decade of movies.  Some of my favorites were, “Dead Poets Society”, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”, “Fatal Attraction”, “Bull Durham”, “Die Hard”, “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”, “Back to the Future”, “The Last Emperor”, and of course, “A Christmas Story”.  I could go on, but you get the idea.

 

I was into “foodie movies” for a time.  Not surprisingly one of my favs is “Ramen Girl”. I also like “The Hundred-Foot Journey”,  “Julie & Julia”, “Chocolat”, “Eat, Drink, Man, Woman” (this may be in Chinese with subtitles.  I know that’s how I watched it.), and of course “Ratatouille”.

Of course, travel movies are in my top choices, but I am not going to get into those.  I wrote a blog post, “My Favorite Travel Movies”,  and you can read about those in the link.

However, as I plan to leave Poland at the end of this year, travel planning is constantly on my mind.  I need to get to Flying Tiger and pick up a wall map of the world while I am contemplating my course.  Even though my “plan” is to not have a “plan”, some structure is required.  I am considering a stop in Romania first and then working my way across Türkiye.  From Türkiye into Georgia and Azerbaijan.  After that Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Kyrgyzstan, and maybe a couple of other stops in that part of the world are on my list…you know, the Silk Road. Here I meet a fork in the road, head up into Mongolia, down into China, South Korea, and Indonesia, or spend an extended period in India and then on to China.  Either way, I plan to spend time in India and maybe even drop by and say “hi” to the Dalai Lama if he still receives audiences.

You are probably asking yourself what this has to do with my favorite movie.  Even though I talk about it in the blog mentioned above, it is the last movie I have watched and will probably watch again.  If you read the blog linked above, you can skip this next paragraph because I cheated and am repeating what I said there.  I mean, why reinvent the wheel?  The trailer is linked to the movie title below.

If there is one movie that best explains the feelings, the experiences, the ups and downs of the last 10 years of my life, it is  A Map for Saturday.  Although I am not a young backpacker, on the road for a year, or staying in hostels (I have but not usually my first choice), it does do a great job of showing all the feels.  I have mostly had a home base in some country or another over my journey, but I have also traveled extensively during this time.  Those first hours of being alone in a new destination, meeting people throughout your stay, and knowing when you leave it really is “goodbye”.  Most of the time it isn’t “see you later” because deep down you know you probably will never see these people again.  The movie’s filmmaker, Brook Silva Braga, quits his lucrative job as a producer with HBO Sports and documents his 11 months of backpacking around the world.  During those 11 months, he spent time on four continents, Australia, Asia, Europe, and South America.  The title of the film comes from the fact that when you are on a long-term travel with no obligations, every day feels like Saturday.  When I eventually return to the States (yes, someday but no idea when), I would love to talk to young people.  Their parents will probably hate me, but I want to tell them to take that “gap year”.  A foreign concept to most Americans but it is embraced by other cultures.  What you can learn when you move out of your comfort zone and embrace the chaos of Asia, or the mindset of Europe is not something you will learn in the classroom.  I agree that lifestyle, even for a year, or my lifestyle which has been even more long-term isn’t for everyone.  But I can’t repeat it enough if you have even the smallest desire…GO!  Even if you aren’t a young person who hasn’t settled into a 9 to 5 life, if you are someone unhappy with a job, or just want to experience living a different culture from your own, even if it is for 1 month, 3 months, 6 months…GO!

If you want to understand my lifestyle and what it might look like next year because it is something so hard to put into words, watch this movie.

The words of Freya Stark, “I have no reason to go, except that I have never been, and knowledge is better than ignorance. What better reason could there be for travelling?”