eating (or not) my emotions

What is the ultimate comfort food for me? A piping hot bowl of Asian ramen.

I have to make a distinction between Asian (namely Taiwanese, Japanese, or Korean) ramen vs. Western or Israeli. The former is an addictive cocktail of dried vegetables, real oil, and MSG while the latter is just not even worth chewing. A lot of my American friends don't understand the warmth and childlike joy I have in the prospect of a savory slurp. If you don't get it, it can't be explained.

So, very thankfully, the student I tutor for English with incredible thoughtfulness brought back several packs of Shin ramen from Korea. She had been away for about a month, visiting family, and shares my pain of having no way of buying real ramen here. And I've been trying to make them last, but we have a war right now, and seriously I try my best not to eat a pack a day. But sometimes knowing that I'll get to have 20 minutes of not thinking about the dead and dying, immediate friends being called up, immediate friends with children and pregnant wives--knowing I'll get to take a break from real life and just enjoy a bowl of noodles like all the times during typhoon blackouts as a child, helps.

On July 15, I fasted in solidarity with the Muslims and Jews who were fasting for notable days in their religion but who're dedicating their fast towards peace and breaking bread together at sundown. It was the first, or perhaps only the second, time that I actually really stuck by a fast from the night before to sundown the next day without, say, swigging just a little bit of juice at least. As I counted down the hours to when I got to eat, it really hit me how everyone needs to hunger for peace the way I hungered for food. How many other people thought about this as we drew close to the end of the fast? To long for that something to fill us with strength again, fill our hollowness. Am I just paying lip service when I say I want peace too? Does wanting--longing for peace amount to real attainment?

Abba God, what are You doing right now?

practicing scales

I recently read an interview with David Sedaris in which he mentioned that he would habitually, every day, write about one memorable thing from the day before. He described it as akin to a pianist playing scales. I really liked the thought of that. As an aspiring writer, I've always been told that the most fundamental thing to do is just to write. Write a lot, and frequently. That's difficult to do with small children around, a dearth of ready-to-go subjects, as well as, oh, my own lack of self-discipline.

But Sedaris' idea of this writerly habit is appealing because it's a small but purposeful thing. And even if on some days, I might end up just describing an amazing bowl of ramen I inhaled the day before, it's at least as meaningful as practicing the scales. So let me try to do this.

What was the most memorable thing that happened to me yesterday? Going for a more-than-3K-but-less-than-4K-probably run after almost a full month of hiatus. I almost didn't do it because of a missed connection with an usual running partner, and also I started feeling tired and headache-y from the hours of internet news reading and crying over the deaths of the three Israeli teenagers. Despite the long absence from running, and the definite increased amount of fat jiggling on my arms and legs as I ran, I felt really strong, totally unfazed by the hilly terrain. It cleared my head. The entire back of my Jerusalem Marathon jersey got soaked, causing it to stick to my skin, and sweat beads rolled from my hairline down the sides of my head. Along with these droplets, out of my body, were the frustrations and sadness and fear I had been feeling all day for the people of this region, both Jews and Arabs.

It may be a good thing we're leaving this country next month, and I don't know how the rising tensions and accompanying actions are going to affect my plans to visit parts of Judea/Samaria aka the West Bank a few weeks from now. I am incapable of staying zen over the very real possibility that everything might at any minute, in very real terms, explode into all-out violence. Not so much frantic over my own safety, but the rising body counts of complete innocents and the ugly shouts for more hatred and condemnation... these are already more than enough.

brief respite

After one week of much intense stress, mental (and sometimes literal) hand-wringing, self-condemnation and belittling, with actual work in one and two hour long spurts, I just sent off my first Chinese to English translation of a religious text written in the 19th century. There is plenty more where that comes from in terms of this massive translation job I agreed to take on, but for now, I will celebrate especially as the Sabbath is soon to begin.

Hopefully the professor I'm working for likes it.

return from amsterdam

In this past week, I traveled by taxi->train->plane->plane->train->tram to Amsterdam, hung out with my goddaughter and her family (who I haven't seen since three years ago in Pittsburgh, PA), and did the whole travel modes in reverse order back to Haifa. Got home with Petra around 2:30am, Israel time. Collapsed on the bed. Still trying to get my sleeping cycle normalized. Worth it.

I will write more about Turkish Airlines, the airbnb the Husband rented for me, the discovery of our current relationship dynamic and how I want it to change, the relationship dynamic between me and each member of my goddaughter's family, and about Amsterdam/Europe itself.

It feels like there's a ton of things I need to catch up on -- Translate some Chinese literary works for a local professor, meet up with the student I'm tutoring in English, review and meet up with the teacher who's tutoring me in Hebrew, say good-bye/hang out one last time with one of the moms I've formed a much appreciated friendship with this year (she's leaving in a week for New Zealand *sob*), organize my Amsterdam photos and dropbox them to share with my goddaughter's parents who are waiting, clean the apartment, grocery shop and prep food (once our stove finally has cooking gas again--we ran out right before my trip and the Husband and Son ate...I don't know what while I was gone), and start to pack to relocate to our next country-to-live. Because the Husband got a permanent job offer in Taiwan and it starts sometime in September.

These are the must-dos. There are other smaller would-be-nice-to-dos, no doubt.

The Hemingway-esque synopsis of the trip: Amsterdam was a lovely, lovely city to see. A lot of it reminded me of Seattle, but about a thousand times nicer in a hundred ways.

Happy cows actually come from Holland...or specifically Edam, 
judging from the rolling green pastures and baby lambs, goats, and cows 
following their families around. For the record, Petra started waving at 
the cows first, and I wanted to encourage her friendly ways with animals.

things i want to do, in no particular order

- Handle daily finances for the family well; keep possessions at a need-based minimum, try to utilize public resources or secondhand places as first inquiry, give away/share/sell items we outgrow

- Actively support the people whose work Daniel and I partner with through financial sponsorship (as a start)

- Run at least a 5K (minimum 20-30 minutes) every day, with one rest day per week; 10K on Friday mornings (Saturday mornings after we leave Israel)

- Prepare nutritious meals/snacks with organic, farmer-to-table vegetables on a regular basis for the family

- Have a job outside of the family that enables me to contribute to better public discourse/critical thinking, but also leave me enough time to be available for the needs of my family and friends

- Spent less time on Facebook/Develop a better social network via letter-writing, phone calls, face-to-face meetings

- Be more consistent about (daily) intentional time spent with God

- Have a healthier (more consistent) bedtime schedule

- Keep a relatively tidy living space for the family

All of these things look entirely doable when laid out like this, and yet I feel like a description of my current life is so far from these hardly fantastical ideals. Why?

back to square one

Went out for my first run since running the 10K event in Jerusalem. I had felt invincible after that race--so invincible that I was all set to register for the half-marathon in Haifa next month, and also immediately signed up for a 10K event that will be held in the Carmel forest. 

Then I got sick. Really, really sick. And it's still hanging out, mostly in my respiratory system and sinus. But I'm tired of being sick and trying to wait it out, so I got up and went for a morning run today before Daniel's absence and the kids make it impossible the rest of the day.

It felt awful. I walked several times. I felt like I'm back to my first runs since Petra's birth. Sigh. I guess I can give thanks for the fact that I actually did run (for about 20 minutes). Which is better than nothing.... right?

Maybe I'll just do another 10K for the Haifa event next month...

travel crib notes (brussels, leuven la neuve)

Currently in Belgium; first Brussels, and now 30km SE from there in Leuven la Neuve. We're here because Daniel is working with another math researcher at the university here. I'm learning about new pedestrianism firsthand in the most walkable/stroller-friendly city I have ever been. So glad someone suggested I get a scooter for Declan on the trip; he's been more than happy to scoot everywhere on his own and talk about how fast he goes without demanding that I carry him everywhere like he did in Naples.

I'm also starting to pick up a coffee with croissant/pastry morning habit. So simple yet sophisticated i.e. non-parenthood-feeling. As I was sipping on a coffee to wash down a bite of Belgium waffles on our train ride to our current place, I even felt young and adventurous again...until Declan said, "I'm tired," and used my lap as his pillow to snore the rest of the ride.

Belgium's been an interesting country to figure out. I'm still unclear on what its official language(s), if any, is/are. (What is Flemish??) Leuven la Neuve is a city founded in late 1960s; its populace made a conscious split from Leuven due to linguistic differences, so it's a lot clearer what people prefer to speak here. (French. Except when I tried to speak more French besides bonjour and désolé...then they either immediately switch to English or look at me uncomprehendingly. Is my accent that bad? Yes, it probably  definitely is.)

Walking around this city makes me want to become formally trained in urban planning and go on to help in designing/re-designing public spaces. Kind of like my interest in home/interior design, but on a community-building, environmentally-friendly scale.