Three Cups of Tea

"If we try to resolve terrorism with military might and nothing else, then we will be no safer than we were before 9/11. If we truly want a legacy of peace for our children, we need to understand that this is a war that will ultimately be won with books, not bombs." ~ Greg Mortenson

I have a tendency of buying books whenever I see that they are on sale. Because of this habit, throughout college I amassed a shelf of books that I never had time to read because I was too busy reading for class. Since I've now graduated, I've had time to start reading them. I vaguely knew what this book was about beforehand, so once I knew I was coming to Thailand, I kept it to read while I was here.

Hands down, it's one of the best stories I've ever read. And the fact that its a true story, not fiction, makes it that much more incredible. Not only is it amazingly inspiring, but it is well written, and was extremely powerful and moving at various points.

Three Cups of Tea is about a man who attempted to summit k2 and failed, winding up in a small, closed off village in the mountainous area of Pakistan. While there, he made a promise to the chief that he would one day build a school for the kids, who he saw taking classes outside in the cold, scratching their lessons with sticks into the snow. His promise to build that one school, and the struggles he endured to do so, sprung into the Central Asia Institute, a nonprofit which now is focused on building schools and other projects to help make the lives of other mountain tribes a little easier and better. The belief is that the terrorists recruit from that region because the children there have no other means of education, and by building schools, they are giving these kids a different option other than the madrassas that teach Jihadism and eventually recruit for Al Qaeda and the Taliban.

What Greg Mortenson is doing and how he came about doing it is exactly what I needed to read about at this time in my life. I decided to come to Thailand because I wanted to make more of a direct and immediate difference than I could have while pursuing journalism. Reading his story simply reinforced my belief that this was something I needed to do at least for a point in my life, if not permanently.

And what he is doing in this period in history is phenomenal. I've thought about all the things in that area that I want to see, but have always worried about the dangers, especially to Americns, at this time. He shows that even that hatred is not universal and can be overcome.

But nothing I say about this book can do it justice, so all I can do is urge everyone to go read it. And if you're going to buy it, do some from a website that donates part of the proceeds to the CAI.

Impossible Wishes

"The important thing is this: to be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become." ~ Charles Dubois

There's that saying, "every cloud has a silver lining." I never believed it. I still dont really believe it. But some may say that is what I'm getting at with this post, and I want to say upfront that it's not.

I'm loving my life in Thailand. And it is definitely one of, if not the best, decisions I have ever made. It has only been a month and a half since I've been here and two weeks that I've been teaching, but I know that this year is going to be full of experiences and people and places that will forever change me, likely for the better.

The thing is, I know I wouldnt be here if my dad was still alive. That changed me so much and put me in the position that made me capable of making the decision to come here. And while there were a lot of things that sort of just fell together to push me in this direction, that was the driving force. Listening to the reasons that others have for making this journey has made me realize that the person I used to be would never have even thought about taking this course in life. But i would give up all of every one of these experiences if it would mean he was back in my life.

Graduation Really is Just the Beginning

"I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love any longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying. They don't teach you anything worth knowing." ~ Neil Gaiman

My dad was one of the smartest people I ever met, and yet he never even received his Associates Degree. He skipped two grades, graduated high school at 16, and then spent a few years bouncing around different colleges before ending up at NYU for a bit, taking classes that interested him but never settling on courses to fulfill a sequence that would warrant a degree of any sort. He was just fine with that, too. For him, it was about learning.

I think today we've lost that idea. I now hold two degrees, but for most of my classes, I learned what I needed to know to get by and then forgot anything that I didn't really care about, and some of the stuff I did care about as well. In fact, I even have a minor in Spanish, but am not even close to being considered fluent in the language. There is definitely a problem there.

Back when I had my life planned out, I was perfectly fine with this idea. Now that I am debating about what path my life should take, I'm a little angry that I didn't spend more time taking classes I was interested in, rather than just fulfilling my requirements. Sure, two degrees and a minor with honors in four years looks great on paper, but I missed out on what was really important. And now that I'm not going right into the work force, not going right to law school or grad school, none of that really seems to matter all that much.

I was explaining to my mom why it's so important to me to go to Thailand, not that she's against it or anything. It will be the first time in my life I do something that doesn't follow this set path. In high school, I didn't enjoy myself because I was focused on doing everything possible to get into college. In college, I was focused on doing what I would need to get a great job. Now that I've realized I don't have to follow that set path, and that really, I don't want to anymore, I think this is the best time for me to set out on a journey like this, allowing myself to enjoy what I'm doing, and at the same time, learn in a way others can only imagine.

Oh, and I'm finally learning to enjoy myself.

I Took the Plunge

"If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be too cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down." ~ Anne Dillard

I went skydiving today. It's something I've wanted to do for a pretty long time, and just never actually went through the process of researching, saving the money, and doing it. But I started talking about it seriously once I decided to go to Thailand, and for my birthday my mom's gift was the money for it and a bunch of research on places in the area, and that was the push I needed.

It was an indescribable experience. It surprised me that, for the most part, I wasn't even very nervous (except for the moment the door on the plane opened). I wasn't thinking about the dangers or the things that could go wrong, I just knew it was something I had wanted to do and I was finally doing it.

As I was talking to other people about how they felt leading up to their jump, during it, or after, I realized that the way I was feeling is the way that I feel about most of the chances I take in life. It struck me as funny that I have the same reaction to a physical risk as I do to an emotional one, and reinforced my view of myself as someone who is determined to go after what I desire.

In the end, my first parachute deployed incorrectly, so after the first free fall, we went into another before the reserve was pulled as we soared through a cloud. My instructor told me later that it had not happened to him on a tandem jump in about 7 years. Even now, I would still do it again given the opportunity, and have another thing to check off on my "Bucket List."

Maybe writing this all down will help me sleep......

I was working the bar today, an unusual thing for me to do on a Tuesday. We were pretty slow but the few guests I had were intently watching the Michael Jackson tribute on TV, so I was able to catch most of it, since there was nothing else really to do. For the most part, I felt it was pretty tasteful even though it reminded me more more of an awards show with a somber undertone, but it didn't move me at all. That is, until the end when his daughter took the mic. Then, like most viewers, I started to cry. But unlike many others, I couldn't stop. I lost it. It put me right back to my own dad's funeral almost two years ago (which I still can't believe), when I was standing on stage doing the exact same thing, though for the life of me I cannot even remember what it was that I said. This all got me thinking a bit, surprise, surprise.

While it's never a "good" time to lose someone close to you, I think there are times when it is "better" or "easier" than others. In regards to losing a parent, there is a range in which I believe it is most difficult, and that is from around 8 til about 30. I'm not saying this is a rule, and I don't mean for it to diminish what other people have gone through, but based on a few conversations and my observations, I think this is generally true.

Before that age, there is little that you remember as you go on in life. Most first memories are at or after age 5, and the general memories after that for a few years are usually just vague. Now that introduces other issues when a parent is lost this early in life, such as dealing with the fact that you never really got to know them, but for what I'm talking about, the coping, it's a little easier because most of life as you will remember it will be without them.

Then there's the time after 28. For the most part, at or around this age, people have found themselves. They generally have an idea of what they will be doing with their life, and they have established who they are. Their parents, for the most part, know them and know who they will be and what they will accomplish, even if only in the general sense.

But for anyone I know who has lost a parent in the in between ages, it has not been so clear-cut. True, they got time with their mom or dad and were able to share experiences that they will always remember, but there are so many unanswered questions that forever linger.

It's that time, a crossroads, when a life can go in any direction. You haven't really established who you are or what you will do with your life. You are still learning and being shaped greatly by the experiences you face. Much of the time you have not yet finished school, met your spouse, had children, figured out a career.... and their death before all of this has been figured out is what pains you on a daily basis.

My dad didn't get to see me be the first in my family to graduate from college. He didn't get to find out that I realized my true passion was not journalism, but traveling, and that I hope to spend much of the rest of my time visiting different countries and not reporting on local crime. He will never have met or approved of my future husband, and will not be there to walk me down the aisle or dance with me to "Butterfly Kisses." My kids will never have met their grandfather or gotten the chance to hear the stories that he was so good at telling. And today, I was reminded of all of this.

A Little Reminder

"Decide promptly, but never give any reasons. Your decisions may be right, but your reasons are sure to be wrong." ~ Lord Mansfield

Back in elementary school, I was part of a decently large, close group of friends. We had pretty much been in the same class since second grade, and the group consisted of me, 4 other girls, and maybe 8 or 9 guys. When fifth grade came around, our school zone did some redistricting, which would mean that when we left elementary school the next year, we would not all be going to the same middle school. Instead, me and about 5 of the guys would be headed to a different middle school, farther away, and statistically, much less successful. The area it was in, the teachers, the classes offered...all were adding up to a potentially horrible experience. Needless to say, I was pretty devastated.

There was, however, one redeeming aspect of this school, and that was that it was one of the only middle schools in the county that offered a magnet program. Now being in that program meant that you had a completely different experience than the rest of the school...options of gifted and talented classes, different scheduling, etc. So of course, I was going to be part of that program. There were five options of programs: Visual Arts, Performing Arts, Music, Mass Communications, and Computer Applications in Math and Science. I was pretty sure I wanted to do the Dance option under the Performing Arts program, and was ready to go and audition when I found out that all of the the guys, the only people I would know going to that school, were going to be heading toward the Mass Comm program. And so, at the last minute, I did something I would never do now, and followed everyone else.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into, I just knew that even if I hated everything else about the school, the people there, the classes....I would be able to see these guys for an hour and a half everyday, which at that time, was enough for me.

It turned out that I loved that program. I was really good at the computer programs and camera work, and was above par with my writing skills. Being ahead of a lot of the class with technical skills gave me even more options, and it ended up being me and few of the guys in a group that was allowed to wander around the school at the end of every day, unsupervised and basically just hanging out, to practice camera shots and put together a short video. At that point, I was sure I had made the right decision.

Then we got to the part of the program which focused on public speaking, and I seriously considered withdrawal. I was terrified of talking in front of groups, especially my peers. When I heard that each week we were to give a speech and have it taped to watch back and critique, I was then sure that I made the biggest mistake ever.

As it turned out, I was a wreck in front of the class, and for five consecutive weeks, I made a fool of myself in front of everyone....twice, because we had to rewatch it. My teacher thought he had the perfect solution: Put me on the Morning Show, reading the announcements to the school each day over the TVs. It was not an option.

But I surprised myself, and after the first couple of days of stumbling through announcements about club meeting cancellations and new activities trying to start up, I got the hang of it, and was actually, even kind of good at it. And the next week, I didn't get any butterflies when I stood up to give my speech to the class. I continued doing the announcements almost daily until the end of 8th grade, and went on to perform in one full length play and a musical before entering highschool.

I remembered all of this today when I was at the Newseum with my mom and brother. That was what started my interest in journalism and what made me want to pursue it as a career...at least until this past year when I sort of lost my passion for it. Today, combined with the special Brian Williams did on Obama two weeks ago, made me realize that a lot of that passion is still there, and is definitely something I should still consider to pursue.

Shifting Focus

"The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end." ~ Benjamin Disraeli

The last time I talked to my ex was February 11, four months ago. In a few weeks, Tyler will be returning from New Zealand. He was there for the semester, decided on what I can only assume was a whim based on his current relationship. His relationship that is most likely going to become a marraige. This is after about a year of us being broken up...after dating for about 4 1/2 years.

I'm having some trouble accepting this, but the funny thing is, I don't want him back. I know that we met at a time when we were completely different people, and we could never again have a functioning relationship. Still, I can't help but miss what we used to have, and the friendship we could have had if things had worked out like we planned.

There are many reasons it ended, all adding up to the fact that we just weren't right for each other. From what I've heard, this new girl is exactly who he tried to turn me into, so maybe it is actually something that could work, despite all of the marriages, especially those started young and after a short time together, that do not.

He and I met when we were 15 and 16: he couldn't even drive yet. I could not have imagined then the twists and turns that we would face over the next few years, and even as we went through break after break, I would never have believed that anything would be able to keep us from forming that friendship we always promised ourselves we would keep if the relationship ever officially ended.

I'm still not sure exactly what it was that kept us from forming that friendship, but I now know that at this point, I don't even feel the need for it anymore. Mostly this is because if he could not keep that promise to me, then he is not the same person I once thought he was, and the person he became is not someone I want to keep in my life. I can say his name and not be bitter, I can look at pictures of us together and not cry, and I can carry on conversations with his friends without even mentioning him.

Sure, I still occasionally have nostalgic pangs, and the thought that maybe one day we will be able to get coffee together and talk about our lives, both past and present. But in the last months when we have had absolutely zero contact, I have come to realize it is not as important to me as it used to be, and it is not something that I feel the need to strive for.

Faking It

"The worst crime is faking it." ~ Kurt Cobain

While at work the other day when the weather was rainy and therefore we were extremely slow, one of our managers began to impersonate all the waitstaff as they behave at tables. He hilariously, and quite accurately, portrayed a number of people before he got to me. He looked at me for a second, then put on the cheesiest grin and started talking in a sickeningly sweet voice. He went with it for maybe 2 minutes, turned around, and contorted his face into an angry scrunch before storming off, and I laughed so hard I almost cried. He nailed it.

I pride myself on being ridiculously honest and truthful. I hate fakeness, two-facedness, and lying. I'll add hypocritical to that list, but in doing so, I am really just being even more hypocritical myself. How can I continue to denounce these characteristics when everyday at work I am the perfect embodiment of all that I hate?

Then I think about it again, and I suppose, there are circumstances where it may just be better to hold your tongue. For example, when my table of 10 takes turns each individually asking me which sides we have, and I go through the entire list 10 times, rather than asking them if they can read what is right in front of their faces. Or when a lady orders enchiladas, only to realize once they come out that what she really wanted was a quesadilla and I should have magically known that she doesn't know the differences of Tex-Mex food. Now had she asked, I could have gone on for about 5 minutes about the differences, but the thing is, SHE DIDN'T. Those are times when I wish I could just forget about "the customer is always right" policy and talk back to them, sass them the way they do me because they assume I am uneducated and incompetant.

Lucky for those people, I can grin and bear it...unlike some other servers. If you are unsure about what I am saying here, please take some time to watch Waiting, as it is scarily accurate.