Unexpected

We have not been wanting for Thanksgiving invitations, so I have been busy locating supplies to cook some of our favorite dishes to take to celebrations in our new friends' homes.  But, as I have said many times, shopping is never quick and easy (or cheap if trying to make certain American dishes), unless I'm in need of chicken feet or noodles, and even that is at least a short bus ride away. And, speaking of chicken feet, I had my first chicken foot at lunch today!  It might have been tasty, but I just couldn't get past the look - no matter how much breading and sauce, it still looked like the skinny foot of a chicken. I digress.

When this week arrived, bringing with it Thanksgiving and Taylor's 11th birthday, I knew I needed help, and help arrived through a sweet new friend (with a car) in our complex. She showed me the place and I was able to get almost everything I needed for the fraction of the price of my local market. The $12 for the cake mix is less than $2 USD, and the $5 for the jello mix is less than $1 USD. 

But, I was so excited to be in the store, I didn't use good judgment. Shocking, I know.  Honestly, when I was in the store, I only read "Chocolate Sponge Cake Mix" and "Strawberry Jelly Powder." In my mind, I was sure there would be English directions somewhere.  I mean, really, until 1997 HK belonged to the British for the previous 156 years. 

Thankfully, my Cantonese tutor arrived the next day and was able to translate the necessary instructions (my scribble at the top as she was translating).  I didn't want to stretch my tutor with the grams and mililiters because I knew I could go to my new Irish cookbook and get the further "translation" needed. 

They

At some point in the near future I'm going to write a meaningful blog. 

I mean, I like posting "count your blebbings," but there is so much more to living in this place on the other side of the world from what I have ever known.  There is so, so much more to all of us than most people know, and this is something with which I struggle deep in my soul. 

I want to be known for who God made me to be, not what someone sees the few times a year he or she sees me, or what someone determines after a conversation about my kids or my house or my husband or my life. Because, really, I say some of the dumbest things when I talk about those topics. I can so often sound boastful. I can so often seem to have all the right answers, but I don't have the right answers, and I don't want to be boasful; I want to sound thankful and I want to be real.  

It's just a desire to be known.  I'll write it one day.

But, in the meantime, I recently read an amazing blog post at jenhatmaker.com and I really want to share it. I'm only posting the last half of her post because if just feels wrong posting the whole thing on MY blog, and I think people who have awesome blogs must really get annoyed by those of us who hijack their posts. Anyway, here it is (half of it).  The title of the post is The Mythical "they"

“They…”

It can be such a terrible word. They are all like that. They don’t get us. They are always _____. They are never _____. They are not our people. They are all the same. They all feel _____. They would never _____. The book is already written and them, and we can close it.
There is no they.
 
I’ve done this. Of course I have. I imagine I know exactly the type of women I’ll be dealing with when I walk into a conference based on the venue, and I am wrong exactly every time. Because there is no they. No group of people is any one thing. Ever.
 
An 84-year-old woman sat next to me on the front row once, and I thought, wow, she is in the wrong place. I’m about to talk about justice and poor people and she is just here because she has been coming to conferences for eleventy billion years. I bet she falls asleep.
 
When I came off the stage, with tears pouring down her face, she grabbed my hands and said, “Everyone thinks I’m just an old lady and should sit in my pew and go gently into the white light, but I still have good years left, by God. I go to the prison four times a week. Those are my people. You are the first person who doesn’t think I’m crazy.”
 
There is no they.
 
It is immature and lazy to imagine we know everything there is to know about someone before we know that someone. We don’t know their stories, their histories, their real live human feelings. We don’t know their favorite movies and best memories and what makes them afraid. It is unfair to take one fact, one thing they’ve said or we heard they said, or one thing they wrote, or someone else’s experience, or a group they identify with and make a character sketch. If people did that to us, the picture would be so woefully incomplete, we wouldn’t even recognize our own description.
 
Who is your they? Is it a group? Because guilt by association is the lowest form of assessment. No group is all the same. They may have one line item in common, one belief, one perspective or mission, but that camaraderie is not the sum total of a person’s character. She is other things besides that. Probably a bunch of stuff just like you. You’d be surprised.
 
Is your they an individual? Have you invented a barrier based on anything but sustained personal connection? Maybe you think you know how someone will react or respond, but you could be as wrong about them as they are about you.
 
I suspect we misjudge people 90% of the time. Experience tells me I can sit down over coffee with almost any perceived adversary and end up laughing until my ribs ache. We were born on the same day, we both quit reading the same book halfway through, we are both worried about parenting, we both love Jesus even if we don’t agree on all the dressings. Common ground abounds.
 
Yes, some people are genuinely toxic or unhealthy, but we should draw those conclusions from personal experience, not hearsay or assumptions. I see a strategy for fracturing humanity well in play: just keep people separated and let them reinforce invented boundaries in their imaginations. Because when people come together and really listen to each other, doing the hard work of human kindness, virtually every barrier is breached. The entire mechanism is a house of cards; we can topple the structure with courage and trust and real discussions and grace for each other.
 
The Mythical They is a lie, and we can do better than this. Will you be brave? Do you need to pick up the phone or send an email and ask someone to coffee? Perhaps it’s time to stop painting a group with a wide brush and get close enough to see what those folks are actually like; you will never regret giving someone a chance, but you might forever regret carrying a fake grudge to your deathbed. Let’s refuse to buy into this horrid game. Let’s give each other the benefit of the doubt, some actual time. We’ll listen and connect and try to understand each other like the People of Mercy we supposedly are.
 
It could just be the most beautiful, holy thing we do.

Blogger rules

I'm not sure about the rules on blogging, but I tend to think a new post is necessary when a topic changes. Therefore, if I have a few minutes to spare to sit down at the computer and write, then I need to have different posts for different topics - kind of like paragraphs. (I needed a good transition from the "outdoor life" post I did three minutes ago.)

This post is my first Thanksgiving post of the week. I really hope I have more to share this week, and I hope they are as good as this one. 
This "find" is our best so far.  Count  your "blebbings." We do. 

There is a great old man in the market who has a shop with some beautiful paintings. He sells paintings, takes custom orders, frames anything, and offers art classes for children and adults. He is at least 85 and probably weighs the same. He is eternally smiling and always treats me like a friend (and you know I don't have very many in this place just yet), so he is top on my list here.  His English is spotty, alas the "blebbings," but he has a sweet assistant who is a few notches above spotty, so we communicate just fine. I think they are both holding out hope for my Cantonese lessons.

Outdoor life

Those pebble-looking objects on the trail are the people who paid to inflict pain upon themselves. Jeff ran this half-marathon (22k) yesterday, while the rest of us angels went to church and learned about Jesus! 

I find this picture funny because his face has a faint smile, but his body looks like it's revolting. He might say it's because he was soaking wet with sweat, but his gait the rest of the day said otherwise. Grueling was the word he used. 
The saddest part is that he had to get home via subway and taxi (the race was in the New Territories), which took almost two hours. I can't imagine the person who had to sit in the taxi after him. 

Prior to Jeff leaving for his race on Sunday morning, Forrest came stumbling in from a twenty-four hour event called Stop the Traffik (and still went to learn about Jesus with the rest of us). He worked for 24 hours straight with a first-aid team to attend to injuries during this crazy 24 hour race at The Peak here on HK Island. I've attached a short explanation from the coordinator.  The kids that raced did so for a full 24 hours, taking breaks every two hours or so. Forrest said it was to give emphasis to the grueling life of those who are in this horrible modern day slave trade.

Running to Stop the Traffik was not just about the race.  Students raised funds through their schools to help support the efforts of Freedom Matters.  Freedom Matters, started by Phillip Holmes, with its dedicated team has freed hundreds of Nepalese children trafficked into slavery at circuses, brothels, and labor companies and provides these children with opportunities for education, employment or service.  
"Running to Stop the Traffik 2013 "(24 Hour Race) happened this weekend at Lugard Road to raise funds and raise awareness to fight the scourge of human trafficking in Nepal and East India.  HKIS was well represented again this year. These students' herculean efforts over the past 8 months paid off with a smoothly run event and awareness heightened about the human slave trade. Forrest Holcombe served on the first aid team throughout the event.  Our school fielded two teams.
The event kicked off under the sunny skies at the Peak. M started off with a grueling pace of 12:45 for the 3.4 km Lugard Rd lap.  Despite a few injuries, HKIS went on to battle it out with West Island School and Island schools for first place.  Throughout the night, fierce competition continued between the boy teams of HKIS and Island School.  HKIS girls team dominated the race with 77 laps run and one of the female runners had a fastest lap time, after 22 hours of racing, of 13:42!!!  HKIS runners all pushed themselves to the limits and won the event with a total of 170 laps run! Island School closely followed with 168 laps.  

On to the casual lover of the outdoors, Ellis and Claire. They like a nice afternoon in the woods with a dog and a few trees and rocks, and they're happy. 

Ellis had his first scout campout last weekend. Did they sleep in tents? No, under the stars because it's mid-November. He took a sleeping bag, a tiny bowl, a fork, spoon, and water. There's not even a jacket in the skinny backpack. 

Do you remember how skinny this child is? And, you can't even see the backpack. 

Double deckers

It's hard to describe the incredibly narrow roads in HK.  And, oh my gosh, they are NARROW. On the way home from dentist today I realized the top of the double decker bus is the best place to capture the narrowness.
This video is entirely too long (6 minutes), but I couldn't cut it because of Claire's cute comment near the end about the bus swallowing the cars. Note the rubberband bracelet maker that is now going along to the dentist with us.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocw2AGJul0g

Mail

It's the little things in life that make a kid's day!  Last week it was gum and letters and this week it's rubber bands and more letters! My sweet friend decided that my girls couldn't come back to the states and not know about rubberband bracelets. Jill knows a good mother, in good conscience, is not going to let any other mother allow her daughters off that plane with empty wrists! 

We made two bracelets before bedtime! I'm pretty sure the boys will be sporting these before long!

Thank you, Jill, and thank you, Janet, for brightening our day. 

Pay up

It finally happened! After a solid two weeks of driving, I hit another car!  I'm doing all the things I think I should be doing - staying in my lane, driving slowly, staying on the left side of the road, but I just can't judge that turn to the left while I sit on the right side of the car.  

This lovely van pictured below was in front of me as I was beginning to turn left into a parking garage (taking Ellis to a dentist appointment); and I thought he was going to continue to move forward while I turned left into the parking garage, but I just couldn't clear that bumper. I hardly felt the hit. Do you see the right side of his back bumper? It's dented - by me. 

Just after I hit his van, I continued to pull into the parking garage, but only to the edge of the entrance, so that I could get out and talk with the owner of the van. But, as soon as he saw me moving in the direction of the garage, he started screaming at me in Cantonese (my windows were down because it's only November here and we have at least one more month before I can comfortably wear jeans). This is when I am thankful I can understand essentially nothing in Cantonese.  He left his car in the middle of the road (traffic was really heavy, but he didn't care) and walked over to my car. I told him, via hand motions, I was going to pull into the parking garage and park my car to get out of anyone's way. He started screaming again and pointing toward his van as if he had run in to similar trouble with other drivers like myself, but I just pulled away from him and parked my car. Ellis and I walked out toward the entrance to the parking garage where we saw a guard, so I asked for his help and he told me he didn't want to get involved and I should call the police. Nice. I kept walking toward the man in the van, who was clearly about to blow his top. He pointed to someone sitting in his van and this sweet looking woman smiled at me.

Miracle of miracles, this woman sitting in the back of the van (who was only with this lunatic because she had hired him for the day to move some items from one flat to another) SPOKE ENGLISH!  She looked at me and said, "He would like for me to translate for him." Great, I'm thinking, I got lots to translate to him, as well.  So I'm standing in the middle of the road with traffic going right by me and this man keeps telling me that I hit his car, as if I didn't know this.  The woman said we should call the police, but I just didn't see a call to the police going in my direction, so I offered to pay the man what he thought it might cost to repair his van. The woman translated and the man said $2000 HKD would fix his bumper, which is about $250 USD. 

I told this crazy man to pull his car into the parking area and I would get the money. So, after twenty minutes of holding up traffic, he got in his car and pulled it into the parking deck. I gave him the money  and then took a picture of his car. He asked me (through the lady) why I was taking the picture and I said I would might call the police later. I have no idea why I said that, but it made me feel somewhat better about handing a strange man $2000HKD. 

There was one bright spot to this experience - Ellis. As we walked up to his dentist appointment, he commented on the man's anger over this small dent in his van. He said, "Mom, we were just talking at school about people getting so upset over things that just don't really matter in life." Thank you Ellis. 

Mail

Look at this beautiful cookbook written by a sweet friend from Atlanta.  More important, look at those conversions in the second picture!  Thank you, Judith, I am so in need of conversions! Our oven uses celsius, and the measurements are almost always milliliters or grams, so I am constantly having to use a conversion table. No super memories, or even mediocre memories in my kitchen.

Do, re mi

A few days ago we were invited to an Italian restaurant in HK to enjoy The Sound of Music. Asian, Italian, Austrian, American fest. 

When we started the journey to the restaurant, we had four children, but ten minutes into the drive, Forrest decided it was not a good idea to put aside homework for Julie Andrews karaoke. Sensible, but we were already on our way.  So, what does he suggest? "Dad, let me out at the next bus stop and I'll get home."  So, we casually say, "Do you have your octopus card? Great!" Screeching breaks. "Hop out, quickly. See you later." Did I ask him to call when he made it home? No. We hardly slowed down enough for him to make it out the door without dragging him down.  The remaining three happy clams readjusted themselves to take advantage of the extra space left by a growing fifteen year old and off we went. 

They really miss their brother.

So, we make it to the restaurant to meet our friends (yep, we have some) at a table near a stage and a large screen. It wasn't long until we noticed lovely people dressed in Lederhosen and Dirndl. An instant smile.  This was going to be fun. We ordered our pasta and bread, the big screen opened, and that ever-so-familiar tune began. The whole movie! We were going to watch the whole movie! 

It wasn't long until the first song comes along and the music began and the sing-along began. The words appeared on the screen just like in karaoke. You know, the words change colors as you need to sing them. We were all singing so loudly.  Watch.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-xSy0RTzmU

This is a long movie, so an intermission was necessary. And, because the singers and their guests had the restaurant for the evening, they could make this intermission whatever they pleased. After a round of fun Sound of Music trivia, the MC asked all those wishing to reveal their costumes to come on stage. And, because these people decided it was okay to take the stage, I figure they must be okay with being on my blog. 

After intermission, we all realized it was 9 pm and we had a good 45 minutes to get back to Stanley, so we ordered a quick tiramisu (because we can't seem to leave a restaurant without it if it's on the menu) and got up to leave. And, as if this evening wasn't wonderful enough, a fun group of girls with white coifs (napkins) on their heads (they didn't have costumes so had to create in a pinch) sang us out the door.  "So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night, I hate to go and leave this pretty sight . . . " 

Oh, to always be so joyful!

Praising Progress

In the past three years I have probably read a dozen books on brain development, neuroplasticity, and memory.  I started reading these books to better understand learning differences, but I have learned far more than what I anticipated.
One interesting topic I came across in my reading is the idea of "praising versus encouraging." Okay, that's not what it's really called, but that's how I see it in my pea-brain. The research suggests children are better served if we encourage progress instead of praising acheivement. Does that make sense? It was a lightbulb moment for me. If I praise the progress, then the child learns that the actual work toward a goal is just as important as the goal. I did this all wrong for so long and I can see the results in one or two of my sweeties.  I thought I was ecouraging progress, but I was pushing progress with a few nice words here and there.  I praised the end result far more than I praised the work leading up to.  I mentioned the work and tried to be honest about the work, but the emphasis was on the wrong end, apparently. So, when the achievement came, it was all about praising the goal that was met. So, I'm changing it up around here (as if I'm not always changing it up around here).

To add movement to my information, I filmed Claire working on a cartwheel.  She and Taylor have just started taking gymnastics (this information will become rather clear when you see the video).  We are praising progress.
I want to be just as excited about the progress of this cartwheel as I am when she masters this.  Her stature at the beginning of each "cartwheel" leads you to believe you are going to get mastery. Surprise.

Here's the youtube link:
http://youtu.be/LceAqRsfnQw

I'm for hire

I should hire myself out for things like this. I can't speak Cantonese or Mandarin, but if I can just get them over the hump. 
This was in an email I received today. Technically, the child would get the class accomplished if the parent can "accompany" the child to the class. 

FREE LESSON

  " Tiny Tot gymnastics class"

(For 3 to 4 years old children accomplished with one parent/guardian)

Reading Champion

While Claire didn't win the student representative for grade 2, she did win the reading award for the lower primary today.  She read 2,225 minutes for the month of October, and won a gift card to a book store.  I think Taylor was just as excited for Claire as Claire was for herself. I really shouldn't be surprised by her win because everytime I turn around I find her in a corner reading. She reads on the bus, on the MTR, and any free moment that she's not in school or watching The Brady Bunch (which definitely comes before reading for her).

And, because Jeff is Jeff, we had to have an ice cream to celebrate.

And Taylor got an ice cream for completing five days of Cogmed! Another celebration of hard work.

 

Why can't we just stick to potatoes?

I love shrimp. I do.  But, this is just too much. 

Of course, this doesn't come close to the waffle chicken potato chips I saw in the grocery store in Burnsville this summer. Nasty. 

Driving

I am impulsive, no matter how much I try to deny that fact, it is what it is.  I don't want to be impulsive, and I am doing things to move toward a life of less impulsivity, but I'm not there yet. So, when I said I didn't want to drive in HK, and I probably wouldn't ever drive in HK, those were impulsive statements. I admit this.

So, now, I not only want to drive, I think I want a small little car of my own sitting in one of our parking spaces. This all occurred in a rather impulsive moment. I just thought to myself, "why not just give it a shot and be prepared if I ever need to drive." So, we got the car back on Friday, and I got behind the wheel on Saturday.  I didn't go past Stanley, which means I didn't go into the "real" city, but I did have to maneuver the horribly small roads with zero shoulder on HK Island. Yuck! I screamed alot and I think I gave the girls a fright as I drove them to gymnastics (they were happy as clams to get out of the car and head to class).

Forrest took a video for proof.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v19HOWdB6sI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql7A2lE8-eQ

Bus reading

You have to visualize this "ad" (two sets of pictures) side-by-side, with one sticker on each bus seat in front of me.  I'm sitting on the bus and looking at this - but not reading it for obvious reasons to those monolinguals like myself - when I realize that I  must photograph this for the blog so that I can remember this for the future (because that's the real reason for this blog). 

The dog with his paw up to his mouth (in the second frame) is a great addition. 

I'm aware of the junior high nature in finding this humorous. But I do know my mom and sister will be laughing along with me on this one, but only after my sister graphically tells me of the worst case she's seen in the hospital, at which point I won't be able to laugh anymore. 

uses for chopsticks

Brilliant! I'm not sure if this was a customer's ingenuity or standard procedure.