Visa Run: AKA, paying our quarterly dues to the powers that be...



The river separating Burma and Thailand, my view from the walking bridge on the last visa run.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Every three months, we make a run for it out of Thailand.  Well, a visa "run" to be more precise.  For reasons I still don't understand, every quarter of the year we have to leave the country to get our passport stamped.  When I post on Facebook, "headed to Burma today," I am usually not sight-seeing or on some humanitarian excursion...I just going for the stamp, people.

 

I happened to have my camera in my purse a few days ago when we had to take another run for the border...so you can have a glimpse into what we see on our four-a-year trips:

 

Coming up on the border!  That big blue building ahead is where the Thai immigration offices are.

 

So, from the city we live in, we travel about three hours to the Thai/Burma border.  Since the kids don't have to cross the border like Treav and I do, we take turns.  We will take them shopping or out to lunch or just sit in the car with them.

 

The point of no return.

 

Inside the immigration office.  I had no idea that Burma...er, Myanmar...was a half hour behind!

 

After passing through immigration and getting my stamp out of Thailand, you walk over a bridge that separates the two countries.

 

On my way out, I caught this cutie playing while her momma was begging on the side of the bridge.

 

A bystander on the Burma side down by the river.

 

Like most places, even the bridge had food carts with all sorts of fried ware.

 

Here are all sorts of vegetables fried in batter and oil.  I passed on this...

 

Welcome to Myanmar...almost!

 



Outside Immigration...and no, that's not be in the yellow shirt.  I don't really need a photo op with Immigration officers to complete my life here on earth.



 First, before I was "officially" stamped into Burma, I entered a small room where the Myanmar Immigration officers take my picture, ask me for the $16 fee and then ask me where I am going.  I, actually, have never been further than this point right here.  Lots of people cross to visit the cheap markets on the other side...but the kids and hubbie are waiting for me...so shopping will have to wait for another day.  So, I answer them that I am just headed right back to Thailand, so the formalities cease and I am free to go.

 

On my way back to Thailand...and this is my lovely view on the walk back...

 

Even with as dirty as this water is...I have seen people swimming and crossing it without a care.  Saves the $16 fee, I guess! 

 

The cutie I saw before, and her momma, begging on the other side of the bridge...though the tourists across the fence didn't seem to notice her.  I didn't have even a coin in my pocket, so a smile and a prayer was going to have to do for today.

 

Of course, there's a photo op here at "The Northern Most (Part) of Thailand"

 

One of the many signs I see on my way back into Thailand.

 

This one highlighting human trafficking.  Mercy, Lord.  This picture represents the reality of thousands in Thailand each year. 

 

No, I didn't change my name to Sorn...this is one of the examples I could look at while filling out my arrival card for re-entering Thailand.

 

These two Burmese woman tried to offer me a sample of their fruit wine...until they saw the bump on my belly.  Yeah...don't think it would be the wisest food sampling right now for my "condition."

 

On my way back to the car, with Treavor in the car with our three lovely munchkins, the endless markets were kind of calling my name.  But, I decided to be a good wifey and pass them by.  If you look closely, the market on this side street goes on and on up the street.  There is everything from nuts, silver and gold jewelry, souvenirs out the wazoo, to Angry Birds games, cheap (and pirated) DVDs and CDs, etc.  On every street for blocks, there is cheap stuff to buy.  This is one reason why people frequent the border towns.  Everybody loves a good deal.

 

The endless markets of this border town.

 

The "Misty Mountains," as we called them.

 

On our way out of town, we prayed again for the nation we reside in, and asked God to bless this land.  The view of the mountains outside our car windows was break-taking.  A cloudy day had turned them into an eerily beautiful backdrop for the endless fields and roadside restaurants we were zooming by. 

 

In another three months, we'll view these mountains again.  Going four times a year is a small price to pay for getting to live here, getting to love on Thai people and getting to receive so much more in return.

 

Thankful.

 

 

 

The Richy Rich Land: I wish I were making this up

Treavor and I were mall-hopping the other day while on a date.  On the way to boarding the escalators, I walked by this lovely display advertising a housing development on our side of town...

 
I had seen this display before, but had my camera handy this time.  The first few times I walked by it, I did a double-take at the name...really?  Richy Rich Land?  I still laugh out loud when I see it. 

Our city has every level of style and standard of living.  While some of you may still think that all Thais live in incredibly rural abodes, there really is a precedent for everything here.  I have visited friends in one-room shanties and others living in high-end homes with private ponds and multiple possessions busting out of every available storage place.

The home we live in is comfortable and in a gated-community...so I am not writing this to point fingers at foreigners OR Thais who live in pretty places.

I think it is mainly the name of this living community that gets me every time.  It is unashamedly ostentatious and gives me a good laugh when I see it.

If this is a "real-life" model of a house in the Richy Rich Land community, then I think I would invest in black-out curtains if I wanted to get any sleep at night!

 

Every Richy Rich Land house comes fully equipped with a Benz.  Or, at least, they look extra good-looking in the carport.

You never know what you're gonna see here. 

Thanks for stopping by to take a look at an ordinary day here in a very extraordinary land.

Alina

Why I Was Afraid of 30

 

 

Last Saturday, I turned 30.

30.

3 - 0.

I feel like an alien, if that is melodramatic enough.

I guess it is because for a decade (a decade!) I have identified with being in my 20's.  Being in my 20's felt like a safe place to be.  What is safe about a number, anyway?  I know it is all in my head...but...here's why I was afraid of "30"...

30 sounded "old." This isn't the first thought anyone turning 30 has ever had in the history of man...but when I encounter anyone younger than me who is inquiring of my age...I can imagine the response: "Oh! So, you're old, then."  No.  I am just...aged...like, a good cheese or wine. What?

30 feels like the point of no return.  Across the last 10-year span of my life, which started with being mid-way through college, I have lived in a few different countries, conceived four kids (four!), and done a myriad of other "big" things.  But, for some reason, the decade that started with college football games, reckless credit card spending and guy crushes (do I sound "young enough"?)...continued on to where I was technically aged until just one week ago.  29 still didn't sound so removed from 20.  But, when the anniversary of my birth day dawned...it felt like I could no longer imagine that I was the same girl who went to frat parties and could still fit into a size 2 pair of jeans.  Yikes.

30 just plain snuck up on me.  And now, I can't avoid it.  I loved shocking people here in Thailand with the fact that I was a mommy of four and not yet into my thirties (whereas Thais, like Americans, are getting married and having kids later in life, lately).  I loved answering that I wasn't yet 30.  The faces I got were priceless.  Now, when I say that I am thirty, it is as if their faces say to me: "Oh yeah, that fits." 

Don't worry, I am not still wallowing in a pit of despair with puffy eyes, having a third-of-the-way-through-life-crisis.  It wasn't really until the end of April that I even realized that these thoughts were wafting through my brain.  And, when Saturday came and went, I still didn't even know how to feel. 

But then, I got a truly fabulous email from a friend, W, about all the ways she wanted to encourage me into my thirties rather than to let me stay in a state of nervousness and insecurity.  In my next post...I will share some of the things she had to say. 

How about you?  In the season of life that you are in, what are some of the things you are loving, or hating, about it?  I would love to hear.  Share in the comments below:

Blessings,
Alina

Part Two Postponed a Day: Here's My White Flag, Headache!

Hello!  My name is Alina, and I have a splitting headache.

I had planned to finish writing Part Two of "Finding a Lost Treasure by Hearing His Voice," and post it tonight...but...this headache is causing me to not think very clearly and just want to crawl up into bed for the night.  Call me a wimp, or blame it on the baby...your choice.  ;)

So, for any of you (Bueller? Bueller?) who were waiting for the climax ending...I am sorry.

And for everyone else who is just getting to reading this next week...just click to the next post and forget I ever told you about my momentary loss of mental energy.

Good night.  That is all.  See you all tomorrow (and, really, this time the last post will be there!)

And, pray for my headache, will ya?

Thanks a million,
Alina

Observations While Running: The Good, The Bad and The Smelly.

The rice fields at the edge of our neighborhood.  I smile every time I pass them...except for that one time when I was being chased by a dog!  True story...


Condemnation warning: I realize that I am writing this post involving exercise just a few days after Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving: i.e...the day we all ceremoniously stuff ourselves silly in the name of all-things-American.  The temptation might be to groan while you read this and look at your growing belly and wonder why you aren't out there walking/playing football/playing dodge ball/running marathons/fill-in-the-blank with something somewhat athletic.  Well, believe me, I would love to pull up a chair and sit with you while you down your third piece of leftover pecan pie (which, BTW...aren't Thanksgiving leftovers the best?  my son ate sweet potato casserole for breakfast this morning - he's so hardcore).  Anyway...I am certainly not in this whole running phase to serve out condemnation or comparison to anyone who reads about my journey.  So, pass the condemnation and bring on the pie, people!  Oh, and...keep reading.

As I run around the neighborhood throughout the week, I am beginning to notice several things that I didn't before.  I am convinced that my senses are being awakened as my body threatens to give out on me as I run.  I think my sense of sight and smell are just trying to hijack my sense of "I'm so tired I could take a nap right here on the asphalt."  Anyway...here are a few things I have observe as of late.  I love my neighborhood:

The Good:
* The morning sun peeking through the clouds is simply gorgeous.  I am glad, though, that it has been hiding, because the Thai sun can be quite unforgiving and horribly hot. 
*  I have seen more types of flowers and landscaping ideas as I make my rounds.  I am inspired to make my home and yard more visually inviting to people come pass by or stop for a visit.  Now, if I just had time to do it all...
*  The aroma of all those flowers literally gives me an extra boost of energy.  Magnolia and jasmine blooms are my faves.
*  There is the cutest little 2-year old girl that takes a walk with Grandma every morning.  Thai caregivers sometimes follow their little ones around with a bowl of food because the kid just doesn't want to sit that long for a meal.  Bite.  Run.  Bite.  Play.  Bite.  You get the idea.  I love to always turn the corner and see her trying to evade her Grandma's attempt at feeding her breakfast.  It makes me giggle.
*  Passing the rice fields still makes me feel like I am in another world. 
*  At the very back of our neighborhood, a man always has his roosters out in the street in these portable cages as he cleans out their coop.  This, at first, seemed so funny and foreign to me...but then I remembered the suburban roosters of downtown Waco (where we used to live) and then I remember the ghetto.  Funny how that connection works.  Roosters = ghetto.  You get it, right? 

The Bad:
*  I have been chased by dogs and scared silly numerous times by ones that sneak up on my behind their fence and let out a huge howl or bark.  I am sure my neighbors have laughed at my antics after being startled.  I am pretty easy prey.
*  A few weeks ago, as I was approaching a tree that normally has these huge, long seed pods scattered over the ground, I almost ran over a snake.  As in, with my feet, not my car wheels.  I felt like an expert hurdler as I screamed bloody murder and leaped over the approaching snake that I had thought was just a seed pod in the road.  Last I checked, seed pods don't wriggle on the ground and bite.  Yikes.  I wish I had that on video.   Maybe not.

The Smelly:
*  I know where all the smelly dogs live.  Their poop smell is evident.  If I don't hold my breath in time to miss the smell, at least I have motivation to run past those houses as fast as I can.  Yuk.
*  Since many Thais don't eat the traditionally-sweet food that Americans eat in the mornings, they eat just about the same thing in the mornings that they would all day.  I smell curry, other spicy dishes, meat and rice steaming while on my runs.  Yum.  But, I would take a cinnamon roll over curry any day.  Thus, one of my reasons for exercising!
*  Thai housekeepers, moms and grandmas wake up earrrrly to hand wash or machine wash their clothes in order to hang-dry them in the midday sun.  I can run by and smell who's been diligent to wash clothes that day and who hasn't...my house would be included in the "hasn't" category.  I'm simply not thinking of laundry yet at 7 o'clock in the morning!

Confessions of a Running-Hater

My new running shoes laden with magnolia blooms I find on my runs around my neighborhood.  Maybe if I actually stuff them with flowers, they might smell better than sweaty socks?

Alarm beeps...

Snooze button hit...

Alarm beeps again, this time, in a more annoying tone...

Ugh...I roll out of bed...stumble downstairs...

The coffee pot that leaks starts up while I do my morning stretches (aka: the things I do simply not to fall over because I have yet to ingest caffeine)...

After fixing my cup, I meet with Jesus...and hey, to be honest, I check my Facebook feed for the first of many times each day...

Then...I run.

*Cough, sputter*  What?

Yes, the pigs have flown, and the bullet has been bitten...I started running.  I am currently in denial that it is actually happening.  I don't like running!

But...I have a friend, Wendy, who is a self-proclaimed running-hater that is currently training to run a marathon this December.  She brought up running last year during a time of fellowship at the S-clan's house and I was like, "What?  Whatever!  No thank you!..."  So mature, I know.

She claimed that her walk-to-run program made her into a running convert and I was skeptical.  I hate running, after all, but not walking.  Hey, I can walk the neighborhood with my kids like any other mom.  Walk up hill?  Sure!  But, I'll fake that I am not actually huffing and puffing the whole way up. 

After actually starting a push-up regimen that hasn't left me feeling like a complete exercise loser, I started opening up to doing some kind of regular aerobic exercise.  As long as it did not involve me trying to emulate Jillian Michaels in front of my living room TV, I was up for it.  Hey, she's got great abs and everything else, but I think I might have a serious heart attack if I try to move at her speed. 

So, a few weeks ago, I actually started it.  The 8-week program starts off slow, and the end goal is to be able to run for 30 minutes straight with no walking (or falling on the ground in sheer exhaustion) breaks.  So far, I am in week two and I feel like I am going to die every day...but it is getting better. 

For more seasoned runners, it may seem like a piece of fat-free angel food cake, but for me, I am getting my rear-end kicked around the block.  This is all proving one thing that I have been seriously dreading owning up to: being in shape doesn't just "happen"...you actually have to do something about it.  I may seem like I can do my day-to-day tasks with no problem physically, but in twenty years, will I be able to keep up this same endurance? 

And, most importantly, if I ever do actually get to be on the Amazing Race (a fake dream I only have between me, myself and I, and now...you) - will I be that girl who is huffing and puffing on the side of the road while her husband tells her "This is for a million dollars, baby!  Why are you resting NOW?" 

Yes, these are the thoughts that run through my head.

I may never be a marathon-runner or an Amazing Race contestant (I'll skip the drama, thank you!), but I want to run around with my grand kids and also having a fighting chance at raising this metabolic-rate that is slowing with. every. stinkin'. year.  I am not 15 anymore.  When did I miss that memo?

Want to join the program with me? (Click here to read more)  Want to cheer me on?  Or, want to tell me how I am going to ruin my knees and you're gonna send me Bengay in the mail and a note telling me I am a crazy loon?  Leave a comment below:

Oh, How I Love Traffic



Photo credit: trekearth.com



If anyone has noticed my absence, I haven't died, or am lying in bed with a bout of malaria, or, as of now, busy!

You were wondering about that, right?

I haven't blogged in a week because we went out of town.  And, wow, what a trip!  There was a conference that our friends were going to in Bangkok, so we tagged along!

We started Monday with a 8 1/2 hour trip that turned into a 12 1/2 hour trip.  You know how that goes.

At the end of the day, we were doing just fine; cruising, and rejoicing as we entered the wild concrete jungle of the big city.  The kids weren't going insane yet, I was feeling better from my sickness that hit the day before, and our car hadn't blown up yet.  Things were going well.

We passed over a massive suspension bridge, and I remember saying that I suddenly felt so so small. We are country bumpkins now, I'm afraid, and things like passing over gigantic bridges in the middle of a gigantic river in a gigantic city (11+ million people!) can make you feel like a that.  (As a side note...we were in the mall yesterday, walking through an ultra-chic home department store, and the kids and I confirmed ourselves to be quirky, small-town people as we laid down on an uber-comfy floor rug. The kids ooh-ed and aah-ed and we all remarked at how soft the fibers were.  Treavor tried to act like he didn't know us, as he was quite embarrassed.  Moving on...) 

We passed over said suspension bridge and continued to try our best to decipher the three maps of Bangkok's downtown city streets - while noting highway signs and praying that we wouldn't miss a turn.  We had heard that if you miss a turn of the expressway, which we were barreling down at this point, that you would quickly regret it as u-turning is quite impossible and quite laborious. 

Well, what did we do, you ask?

We missed our turn, of course.

20-minutes later, we managed to turn ourselves back around to retrace our steps back to the fork we missed.  There was no fork.  There was no turn option.  We were livid.  And tired.  And...it was raining.  And, it was dark!  Recipe = disaster.

We tried the non-expressway option and tried to work our way to our hotel on the congested city streets, trying to manage not to lose our minds.  We normally reside in a two-stoplight town, people - this was a challenge!

Two hours later, we gave up.  We went to McDonald's (cue "Hallelujah music").  We got some directions.  And, we finally managed to make it to our destination.  Praise. God.

The conference was great!  Thursday, we successfully made it back out of the city, and are now on....

...VACATION!

I don't know if I will blog any more until we get home...I will be working on my tan, working on regaining my sanity from "life" and trying not to work very hard at anything else!

Got any fun travelling stories?  Do tell...Comment below.

{{{ This is a repost from a while ago.  We drove into Bangkok today for a different trip than I metioned above...but as soon as we entered the city and started looking bewildered again at the map of the "big city" of Bangkok, I remembered this post.  The sentiment hasn't changed.  I still get confused and feel like a three-year old when traipsing around this city.  Lord, please help us not get lost again this week! }}}

First Leg Back To Thailand And Sippy Cup Woes

Our plane has just passed the International Date Line, has traveled almost eight hours at frightening speeds, and our children are averaging their third movie and their umpteenth snack and drink of the flight.  On the whole, my boys, sitting with Treavor, have been staring at their personal entertainment screens, watching Japanese pre-school cartoons and playing video games.  I love the Information Age.  Kyla, after eating a snack and napping a few hours, has been generally busy.  Busy.  BUSY!

We went on a "walk" around the plane to search out all the other babies on board, waved, got down their names and moved on to more interesting territory.

By "more interesting territory" I mean, the bathroom. 

Seriously folks, if you're at a loss to what to do with your child on a overseas flight...take a field trip to the bathroom.  We washed our hands, went potty (not necessarily in this particular order), made silly faces in the mirror, tried the complimentary lotion AND the Jasmine scented facial spray (lovely!)...

...and then there was an unfortunate incident with the sippy cup.  Rather, the lid of the sippy cup.  It may or may not have landed in the toilet. 

I kid you not...the toilet.

I was innocently trying to wash out the remains of Kyla's third helping of milk...when I dropped it promptly in the (empty!  Praise God, Hallelujah!) toilet.  Could I have wisely closed the lid of the toilet seat while I did my blessed washing....oh, no!  That would be too smart!

So after about three complete scrubbings with soap and the hottest water I could manage from the safety-sink in the plane's bathroom...we're good as new. 

Let's just hope Treavor doesn't read this entry.  He might banish me from watching Kyla for the rest of the trip...

On second thought, maybe I should forward this directly!

Off to endure the second leg of our trip: Seoul to Thailand.  You'll be hearing from me again soon if I can regain my ability to type after jet-lagging myself into this next new season of our ordinary life in the wild.  Thanks for reading, friends!

Road Trips From A to Z

Good thing the guitar never fell on her head...

Over the last two months, we have driven approximately 4,500 miles here in the States.  I can sometimes exaggerate things, but I am actually undershooting the mileage here.  I promise!  I used Google maps, for goodness sake.

So, minus the countless trips to and from events, houses, meetings, etc. while in the major cities...we have really gotten used to driving.  "Gotten used to" is a phrase I am using casually here.  I have heard enough Action Bible songs and screaming fits from the backseat than I would like to admit...but for the most part, our travels have been pretty uneventful.  There was that time when we almost ended a deer's life somewhere in the Hill Country.  That deer was dumb, I tell you.  And, we, for sure, were thanking God for the grace He gave us not to wreck Treavor's Dad's awesome SUV.  "Hallelujah!" was heard from everyone.  

In all our travels, we have experienced much.  Here is the last two months of driving in a witty acrostic poem.  I am not a poet, but i'll try my best:

A - Action Bible Songs on repeat.  Is "Onward Christian Soldiers" disturbing to anyone else but me?

B - Best Car Packer Award goes to...Treavor!  How he fit it all in, i'll never ever know.

C - Coffee.  Gallons of it.

D - Down, down, down.  The further south we drove, the cheaper the gas prices.  Crazy Northerners.

E - Elmo's ABC's app on the iPad is Kyla's new best friend.

F - Friends and Family are what makes all the travel worth it!

G - G.P.S. saved our lives a dozen times.  And, maybe our marriage, too.  Can't argue with the lady on the screen!

H - Hand sanitizer for all the pit stops.  We have seen some rough bathrooms, lemme tell ya.

I - "I spy" has been the best game ever to kill a bad mood in our kids.

J - Just how full can that diaper get before we have to stop?

K - "Keep to the right side of the road."  We still need reminders.  Toto, we're not in Thailand anymore!

L - Lord of the Rings audio books kept Treavor awake at 3am.  Frodo!!!

M - McDonald's golden arches are recognized by a 2-year old yelling "Fries! Fries!"

N - Neck pillow.  Saved my life.

O - Oklahoma is more beautiful than you would think.

P - Prayer.  Oh, how we prayed!  

Q - Questions galore: "What does 'Don't Mess With Texas' mean?" 

R - Rest Area Wi-fi helps us get our email fix!

S - Screams.  Fits.  Cries. Whimpers.  Whines.  "Are we there yet?"  By the children, and...me.

T - Three overnight trips back and forth from Illinois to Texas.  Are we crazy?

U - Undereye circles.

V - Very good times with people.  Like I said before...it has made it all worth it!

W - "What city are we in?  Where are we going now?" = mantra of my kids.

X - X-tra late nights and early mornings.

Y - You can use a baby wipe to clean up just about anything.

Z - ZZZs...didn't get much.  But, hey, sleep is overrated, right?  

Perks Of A Developed Country

Kyla is sittin' pretty

There is always something I am gawking at as we live the adventure of being in America again.  This baby seat made me literally jump for joy and pull the camera out of my bottomless pit of a purse.  


A baby seat in the bathroom!  What GENIUS!


Everywhere else, I have had to train the kids to stand like soldiers (ie: not like the crazy monkeys they normally are) and keep their hands to themselves while waiting for everyone to get their business done in the public restrooms in Thailand.  Usually, the floors are very wet there, and you have to fan the mosquitoes away from your bum while you try to balance over the squatties or the occasional western-style toilet.  A trip to the potty with three kids in tow (or even just the little one) can stress me just a little bit because of my obsession over super-clean hands.  


But, remember people, America has everything to chase away your fears...and yes, I wrote that with both cynicism and an odd delight...


...and this baby seat just made my day!

Even Kyla likes it!  She, honestly, was laughing while she waited for me!

I love you, Safe-Sitter corporation.  You a mother's delight and the product of a developed country that is always thinking of yet another way to make a load of money.  


What's the coolest new thing you've seen lately?

A Tourist In My Own Country

Me at Target going wild over the latest and greatest.  America - you have EVERYTHING!  My friend Tiffany captured this shot of me taking pictures of stuff last week.  Shopping with her was like Christmas.

What makes you think you've spot a tourist?  Camera in hand?  Socially awkward?  Speaking a foreign language?  Ooh-ing and Aah-ing over the latest technology or processed food wonder?  That would be me.  Yes, that would be me at Target, at Walmart, at the park, at your home, at your local church, driving on the wrong side of the road.  That would be me.


That would be me - taking endless pictures of foreign food.  When you haven't had a Schlotzky's Original or a Cream Soda...coleslaw or fresh lemonade...crescent rolls from a can in over three years - you would too. I shoot my pictures and savor each bite without shame.  And just between you and me, we Americans eat some weeeeeeird food.  Corn casserole?  Like something from another planet.  At least it feels that way.


We were driving down a downtown Chicago highway our first day on the American road.  We realized we made a wrong turn and promptly made a u-turn.  The.  Wrong.  Way.  I yelled to Treavor, "There's a car coming right at you!"  (There was!)  We laughed nervous laughter and tried to recall where we were supposed to be and in what lane and in what direction and at what speed and with our turn signal.  Geez, we Americans also have a lot to think of while driving.  You would think it would be simple for us!  Oh no - now every time we get on the road, you will hear the chanting, "Right side of the road - right side of the road - right side of the road."  In Thailand, it is the left side - and now the right side feels wrong and the left feels right.  Left = right.  Right = wrong.  You confused, yet?  Yeah, so am I.


That would be me freaking out as I wash my hands in warm water every day.  Every faucet is like a home spa.  Seriously.  In Thailand, where you have to pay for individual water heaters at each bathroom or kitchen orifice...you just get used to washing your clothes, your dishes, you hands, your bum...with cold water.  Warm water - every time - is like a surprise as I wash off the grime.  Don't even get me started on dishwashers.  What?  Jeshurun had to ask my sister what they did while she and Huy were loading it the other day.  She thought he was joking.  Oh no, girl.  He wasn't.  In my house, the dish washing machine is me.  Most of the time, it is broken.


Being a tourist in another country, unfamiliar with local currency, causes one to feel like the money you use is play money.  Hey, I am sure that if you're a credit card or debit card user that you can understand what I am saying, right?  But, really, every time I pull out my George Washingtons or a fistful of change, I am out of touch with the real cost of things.  What?  That bottle of shampoo is just a dollar more than the other one?  Who cares!  Let's just buy it and get out of Target before I have a panic attack or a joy fit - both look a little like the same thing to me.  Why do we need 500 different kinds of shampoo, anyway, people?  Trying to choose makes my brain hurt and almost makes me want to succumb to greasy hair and borrowing my kids' baby wash.  Just please don't make me buy another bottle of shampoo while I am here.  I remember the first time I bought food in another country and realized later how much I had overpaid.  If you shop with me ever over the next few months - remind me that paying $5 for a dozen eggs is way too much.  You have a confused tourist on your hands.