signposts

Traversing Transitions

2008-08-30T20:00:00.002-05:00

I love this article from Relevant. How timely!

It's been three days since arriving with my mom in Toronto and nothing could have prepared me for these everyday experiences. Let's try to recap:

1. I love Craigslist
From finding a place to live in HK from Craigslist to getting ALL my bedroom furniture, kitchen ware and random items (1 year old from IKEA!) from a student leaving Toronto for $100 (GOD LOVES ME!)...I can write a testimonial for Craigslist. There's so much trust to sell/buy/rent online and I was so happy when I met my landlord and Daisy (the student I bought things from), I could have hugged them in person (I almost did, my mom ended up doing so).

2. You can't change the world until you've seen it
I read the Lonely Planet guide for Toronto and I've even visited Toronto a few times, but nothing is like three days of walking and driving in the big big city. Nothing beats being here, period from the bums on the street to the crazy university to the artsy lofts. Comparison of Chinatowns for my master's project? Homelessness?

3. I have the best friends
From setting up my Macbook to hanging out with me to packing my suitcases (literally refolding the clothes I folded already), I have the best friends a girl could ever have, here, there and everywhere. It's like God's little angels everywhere so that I always have a friend in any city. A shoulder to cry on, a car to ride in, someone to share my love for ramen. Friends=family. Where would I be without you?! Lost and hungry. With more places, it is easier and harder to say goodbye because you know that some goodbyes are goodbyes. I will always long for Coquitlam as home and I desire to go back (I wanted to cry the moment I stepped off the plane), and I'm looking forward to the day God will lead me back 'home'. For the moment, here's to living 22 in a big big city.

4. Family, family, family
I've spent so much time with my mom that I am almost jealous for the rest of my family. I don't think I've ever spent so much time with my mom (the 24/7) since being in her tummy. Talking to my mom about family and seeing my relatives in Toronto (some that I didn't know existed, some I never met until now at the cemetery) I am revisiting many stereotypes and misconceptions I've held since a child. Family is pretty messy, but fascinating and foundational. Some people wait until their mid life to explore their past, I'm glad I am doing this now as I am building the foundations for the rest of my life. I don't want to keep believing in the wrong things. Maybe I have grown up some as well, but I realize I have been too harsh on my parents as well. They did/do their best and I wouldn't be the same without their genes and upbringing. The 'family' triumph card I've held for some time, and it's time to let go, let go, let go. The uncles have helped me move and get everything ready...so much so that we even had time to go sightseeing! What a blessing and how unexpected - I was prepared to run around like a chicken with my head cut off, and here I am eating ramen and touring the city.

PS - Being an older cousin is also a new and strange experience for me because I am used to being the little sister.

--------------------------

Toronto will be cold and it is rather ugly (no natural beauties to help it...eeks what will I do?!) and I don't know what this collaborative program with social planning and community development (what a mouthful!) will bring, but here I am: Be present where you are called.

This is Home

2008-08-16T02:26:00.008-05:00

Mundy Park

What's the first thing you want to do after you have met with inspiration? Often, mine is to write whether it is after a good play, movie or book, conversion or sight. It begins as an urge, an urge that needs harnessing and one that keeps nagging at you if you ignore it too long. Sometimes when you ignore it too long, the words also become fuddled and one has to seek hard to find them. I have written little this summer compared to past partly because writing solidifies my reality and I wanted to be carried away instead on the wings, like Keats wrote, of poesy. But alas, laptop here we meet again.

For four summers of my short life, I have spent my August days away from Vancouver. I always say that August is the best month to be in the city because for a few short weeks, California's sunshine comes. When I stepped off my 21st and final flight from Asia at YVR, despite the rain, I breathed in the humidity-free air and I was incredible happy to be home. Did it really take me so long to come to this place of peace and contentment? A week into hitting up my favourite running spots, driving the scratched up car I learned to drive in, and eating with friends - I don't want to leave again. It's too good, too perfect for this aching heart and I have to smother the small still voice at the back of my mind that says, this can't last. Was it really 12 years (3 olympic games) ago that I avidly watched the games and would write about Donavan Bailey along with my astronomy books? From the movie theatre I saw built where I visited countless times during high school because friends worked there to the evergreen trees we planted at the back of the yard that only used to be knee high that now tower over my head. For all the times I have 'left', I have also finally let go off all the blame and resentment against my family for not being the 'perfect' family for a 'perfect' me. In the future, another battle will arise, but this time, it will be fighting for my family.

A younger Molly and I | Apple tree in backyard

My first car accident | SR2K

Family 2005

God hasn't allowed me to cry for more than two days though sometimes I still want to cry. Too much good sense, I say to myself. There's more worthy things in this world to cry for Anna, the other half replies. Yet, instead of the feelings of being unwanted, unloved and failure, He has bombarded me with affirmations of who He is and who I am in Him. Indescribable. Unexplainable.

I am so scared and I don't want to go but I know it is time. Time to pursue my destiny, without distractions and hindrance. Time to enjoy God, to enjoy simply being. Time to make the stories that I will tell my grandchildren. I wasn't able to attend church often this summer because of the travels, but I was able to attend a service in Hong Kong and one in Singapore. Both speakers spoke on Micah 6:8, which I had declared earlier this year to be my life verse. Lately, I've heard that often, that something big will happen in my life, in that way. I remember the first time in the summer of first year when I went to Iona Beach with Mark (still one of my favourite places in the world) I said I wanted to be the prime minister and a missionary. How young, how naive, how fresh. Four summers later at the jetty, I told Mati that I have no such dreams anymore. A husband would be nice. I'm not sure all things are done by our own choosing. The phone call on Sunday shocked and devastated my heart, but maybe sometimes pain is the final notice.

Iona Beach

20 months. One cold city. Toronto, what do you have in store for me? More than I can imagine for myself? God you have allowed this door to open, please walk with me.

As always, there is a Switchfoot song for every and any occasion and this is no exception.

This is Home - Switchfoot

I’ve got my memories
Always inside of me
But I can’t go back
Back to how it was

I believe now
I’ve come too far
No I can’t go back
Back to how it was

Created for a place
I’ve never known

This is home
Now I’m finally
Where I belong
Where I belong
Yeah, this is home
I’ve been searching
For a place of my own
Now I’ve found it
Maybe this is home
Yeah, this is home

Belief over misery
I’ve seen the enemy
And I won’t go back
Back to how it was

And I got my heart
Set on
What happens next
I got my eyes wide
It’s not over yet
We are miracles
And we’re not alone
Yeah

This is home
Now I’m finally
Where I belong
Where I belong
Yeah, this is home
I’ve been searching
For a place of my own
Now I’ve found it
Maybe this is home
Yeah, this is home

And now after all
My searching
After all my questions
I’m gonna call it home
I got a brand new mindset
I can finally see
The sunset
I’m gonna call it home
Home

This is home
Now I’m finally
Where I belong
Where I belong
Yeah, this is home
I’ve been searching
For a place of my own
Now I’ve found it
Maybe this is home
Yeah, this is home

Now I know
Yeah, this is home

I’ve come too far
And I won’t go back
Yeah, this is home

Around SE Asia in 77 Days

2008-08-15T17:49:00.014-05:00

I have a confession: although I encouraged the girls to journal, I am really not a great journaller myself. Instead of journaling faithfully every night (like Tiffany) about our journeys, I wrote sporadically. This is why I need Wikipedia now to help me decipher my photos. What I did manage to do however was write a poem of the unforgettable faces and places we met. I apologize for the length in advance but it rhymes!

To my BBCs and other friends =D

Bon Bon Cats
Meet the Bon Bon Cats, one by one
Together this summer on a journey
Smiles surround before we’re done

The world is her dance floor
From steps to jumps to flying
Dreams before her to explore
-Jenny

Adventure is her middle name
From the seas to the streets
Each day is never the same
-Yo

Prim and proper, and well-dressed
Yet such a fun loving girl
To find you’d be hard pressed
-Tiffany

Her eyes light up at the sight
Of exotic places, local food
Enjoying each given day and night
-Alvina

She has a plenty, pink and frilly
With her head often in clouds to
Bright but sometimes oh so silly
-Anna

Faces and Places

My birthplace and past I meet
A tale of two lives, two cities
Generations walk on separate streets
-Luk Yeung Sun Chuen, Tsuen Wan, Hong Kong

It’s the perfect place to be
For the consumer or capitalist
Modern, open and tax-free
-Hong Kong Special Administrative Region, China

An old man lies face down on the street
Banging a metal bowl on the ground
Bows of skin ties where knees used to meet
-Beggar, Fa Yuen Street, Hong Kong

A woman sits, her eyes on the road
Hoping for travelers to visit
How did she come to be, no one knows
-Vendors, Great Wall at Simatai, Beijing, China

A mother rocks a child in her arms
Deformity shadows the young boy
Can her tears protect him from harm?
-Mother and child, Summer Palace entrance, Beijing, China

A girl of twenty works the counter
Smiling at the freedom her work brings
Is there a chance of an encounter?
-Rachael, Wangfujing Hostel, Beijing, China

A fair-skinned American rests
At ease in a hip hutong café
Is integration the next big test?
-Man, café in a hutong, Beijing, China

A lone businessman waits in line
Blue blazer and glasses dress the part
Is he digging the next big gold mine?
-Business, airport terminal train, Beijing, China

Thousand stories trapped in baked clay
From a search for life’s elixir
The secret world now exposed by day
-Terracotta Warriors, Xi’an, China

Sweet osthmanthus your beauty shines
Adorning the simple grey mountains
My hand traces your graceful outlines
-Li River, Guilin, China

A taxi driver flashes a smile
Says ‘one legacy, one destiny’
As he drives along another mile
-Driver from Impiana Hotel, Kuala Lampur, Malaysia

A sun weathered man gestures
Pointing between my bag, bus and boat
Smiles as he lifts without pressure
-Man, Taman Negara, Malaysia

Marketing water in Asia by day
The start of a young entrepreneur
Never too serious to go play
-John, Kuala Lampur, Malaysia

A gentleman of twenty-three
Tells us of the city miracle
Tours us along the city’s clean streets
-Jason, Singapore

A prince’s fancy on an island
A politician’s drive to open
Singapura: in full command
-National Museum of Singapore

“Pretty” says the woman on the beach
trinkets of beads spill over her head
to haggle and bargain she does teach
-Vendor, Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia

A flower tucked behind the ear
He introduces himself with poise
Chivalry wins hearts far and near
-Manager of Novotel, Bali, Indonesia

Laughter rings as the girls walk
“Chanti chanti” calls out the street
Lively in step and full of sweet talk
-Random streets, Bali, Indonesia

The shy server breaks into dance
Hands me a rose made of straws
Sweet encounter given by chance
-Thai boy in red aboard the Seacanoe, Phuket, Thailand

His free afternoon gave a first time
To see life underwater on fins
All for a smile and beer for a dime
-Ti tour guide on an afternoon off, Koh Phi Phi, Thailand

Diver from Dubai sets up a shop
Underworld wonders his passion
Teaching students to find their way up top
-Master diver, Phuket, Thailand

On the island he finds his niche
Away from busy Bangkok he came
Leading tours out at sea and the beach
-Guide and survivor of the tsunami, Koh Phi Phi, Thailand

Our ex-boxing, cobra-killing guide
Whom we fondly call ranger Joe
Leads us through with rapids on the side
-“Joe”, Lahu village two hours by truck from Chiang Mai, Thailand

The shy smile says “ten baht”
Raised with elephants not Dumbo
Over her my mind and heart fought
-Girl, Lahu village two hours by truck from Chiang Mai, Thailand

Traveling couple from Allemande
Laughs over American television
The powers of borders beyond
-Tom and Kristina who drive 10 minutes to Switzerland to buy good chocolate, Chiang Mai, Thailand

Playful ears flap mosquitoes
As he meanders along the path
Passengers on his back he tows
-Asian elephants, Chiang Mai, Thailand

Waters of green and aqua blue
The full moon illuminates the night
Whose eyes feast on Koh Samui
-Chaweng beach, Koh Samui, Thailand

Splashes of rainbow of different shape
Beckons me to this simple cart of fruit
Colours the dull gray landscape
-Lady vendor, Soi Sukhumvit 38, Bangkok, Thailand

Smooth skinned and bright eyed
English speaking student of finance
Waiters at night on the side
-Waitor, Pub Street, Siem Reap, Cambodia

Black, white and orange fly
Over the unmarked grave sites
Where yesterday’s forgotten lie
-Butterflies, Choung Ek Killing Field, Phnom Penh, Cambodia

You aim to main and not kill
Marks of your work litter the streets
Can’t move, I am standing still
-Children of landmines outside tourist spots, Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Soft songs sung before the towers
As flocks of visitors stroll
Towards the five lotus flowers
-Mother and children outside the entrance of Angkor Wat, Siem Reap, Cambodia

Helmets fly full of flare
Weaving through wheels and motors
Honk and cross if you dare
-Crossing the streets of Hanoi, Vietnam

Rows and rows we walk by
Full of cheap goods for export
Prices make you say ‘my oh my’
-Markets with garment factory goods, Russian Market, Phnom Penh and Saigon Square, Saigon, Vietnam

How high, deep and wide
Precious packages on bikes
Carried by hand or roughly tied
-Scooters, Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam

Did my textbooks tell me all?
I don’t know the American War
But these survivors to me call
-Hanoi Hilton, Hanoi, Vietnam and Cu Chi tunnels, Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam

Public Sidewalks

2008-07-28T09:08:00.002-05:00

I remember reading in "The Life and Death of Great American Cities" by Jane Jacobs that public sidewalks are essential to a thriving community. This my friends, Hanoi has in abundance. There is no "sidewalk" to walk on here, it is either a parking spot for motorbikes or a hangout for locals eating pho and drinking sweets. In order for one to walk down the street, one has to weave between the road and the "sidewalk" all the while lifting one's head up occassionally to not get hit by a bike. I miss public sidewalks in Canada! I also remember the noise from the traffic on the streets of Manhattan on top of the Empire State building, I couldn't believe the honks from the taxis travelled so far up! Hanoi definitely beats New York in terms of honking. Usually I sleep through everything, but even I woke up last night to the sounds from the streets at ungodly hours. The constant honking has a way of unnerving me, and coupled with the extreme humidity.

On the otherhand, I am happy to be back on paved roads although I enjoyed the dirt roads in Cambodia. The drive out to Ha Long Bay today was scenic, with rice paddies dotting along the sides of the road, with a growing city in the background. It's just like something from a picture book I tell you. It was also super cool when I suddently remembered that the "incident" at the Gulf of Tonkin that triggered the American War (or Vietnam War, depending which side you are on)...and the tour guide told us that we are there (Ha Long Bay is in the Gulf!). Super super cool and yay for history class in first year.

Interestingly we noticed today that we have not seen a McDonald's or a Starbucks here or in Cambodia, as Tiff says, "where there is Starbucks, there is civilization"...LOL. We had French cuisine for dinner tonight, the most expensive meal for this lag of the trip for sure, and it was good though I must say I am unused to the mashed potatoes and the heavy beef stew after two months of an Asian diet (come on, even the sphagetti bolognaise that I've had here is Asian-y).

A few more days...!

2008-07-25T02:48:00.002-05:00

If it weren't for the butterflies over the mounds and the sounds of laughter from the children from the school down the road, I don't know how well I could have stomached the Killing Fields. Reading and even watching documentaries couldn't prepare you for the sight of the pagoda of skulls and the bones and fragments of cloth on the ground, and the flocks of maimed children (three words on my mind: landmines, kids, exhorters) on the streets in front of tourist attractions. Nonetheless, Cambodia is a vibrant country. Having chats with our local tour guides and vendors, especially ones my age, there is a desire and a persistence in this beautiful people to learn and to build their country. Yesterday in the night market in Siem Reap, I noticed that the boy vendor had the same French cahier that I used before in French class so I struck up a conversation. He knew that Canada was bilingual and asked which part of English Canada I was from. Today as we were traveling to Angkor Wat Archeological Park, there were campaign trucks all over the streets for election day this Sunday. Our tour guide was telling us how the young people today learn about democracy. You can't imagine how happy I was to hear that, that the people here want it and are interested. Can you believe our tour guide worked for the UN as a translator for Cambodia''s first elections in 1993? A large part of me is still incredibly saddened by the events of the last thirty years in this country (no one cared!), but looking at the impressive sandstone, still standing wats...reminds me that the Khmer people also had a magnificent past. They had a massive canal system established so early! What happened in the 20th century...And these sculptures that still stand today, I wonder what we will leave behind 1000 years from now, definitely not IKEA furniture. LOL There is nothing like walking through 1000 year old ruins...

On a lighter note, I enjoy Cambodian food much more...because it isn't spicy! Yes I can finally eat curry and I love noodle soup which is everywhere.

We also visited a local NGO the other day in Phnom Penh where kids, many orphans learn dance and performance. I was thinking to myself the whole time...can I do front line development work? Much more appreciation to aid workers and missionaries.

2008-07-18T22:57:00.003-05:00

So we did the most dangerous thing on this trip thus far yesterday...we rented 3 motorbikes and went biking around Koh Samui. Seeing that we were done with water sports and had our fair share of lounging, what better way to see the island than weave through traffic like locals? Having learned how to bike a few short years ago and not even having enough guts to go cycling on the street (I always stick to bike paths LOL...oh Lydia...!)...I wasn't driving. Instead I put my life into Tiffany's hands and it went reasonably well. In order to ease both of our tensions, I would talk to Tiffany during our cycle tour. "It's okay Tiffany, the cars and bikes will go around us...slow and steady..." I think it was more for my benefit as well talking it out. Even though we didn't go past 40 km/h it sure felt faster on a bike and I couldn't help but think at every turn...oh man, the sun scorched pavement will hurt on my bare arms and legs. No accidents though and it was cool, though I think I got motion sickness afterwards...that or I was REALLY nervous so that after I got off the bike, I felt pretty nauseous. The only down part of the day was when I tried to bike on a little dirt road. I did manage to succeed for a total of 10 seconds before I fell off and the bike on top of my leg, where it left a very nasty bruise. So...that was $40 Canadian dollars of damage for that little adventure...sigh. At least things including accidents are cheaper in Thailand than Canada. It's like when I was learning to bike, the bike always fell on top of my leg because I would be too heavy handed and try to take off too fast, lose my balanace and blah. Maybe it says as much about my fiery character as it does about my biking skills. Nonetheless, despite the scorching mid-day heat and the sudden torrential downpour, Koh Samiu was so gorgeous as we biked along the beach road...Alvina and Yo faired very well though as our other two drivers. I am sure all the other locals were laughing at our helmets and our turns. Only tourists wear helmets.

We went wave catching the day before on Chewang beach and it was amazing. The tide varies quite a bit but we picked a good day as we would float on our backs or on the floating device (like those plastic blow up futon things) back and forth until we got washed ashore. There is nothing like floating in the ocean and I did again attempt to swim. Seriously though, I don't like the taste of salt water or the stinging feeling on my skin against my insect bites. The clear waters are amazing as usual, and the aqua greens to sigh for - I don't know the next time I would be able to go on a tropical vacation...maybe my honeymoon.

I have been watching more television than I have for years during this trip - MTV, the news, movies, you name it. I feel so out with popular culture and even current events as I would rather read a newspaper than watch the news. It is strangely addicting and I don't know what I would do when I come home. To tv or not to tv? LOL.

Reality begins to hit again as I continue to ponder about housing choices in Toronto. To wait for residence or take another offer with roommies? We watched a few documentary like movies the past few nights, on about (In my country) the end of apartheid in South Africa...and I can't beleive we are going to the Killing Fields in Cambodia! Stepping into real history (and present) still baffles my mind as we visited places that were severely hit by the tsunami, WWII memorial sites of the battle of the Pacific (we never focus much on the Pacific war in our studies in Canada), and the miracle and bust of the Asian Tiger economies. I am lost in amazement sometimes and at other times, I want to completely turn off my brain and just be normal for once like other carefree 22 year olds. More and more I realize that my conception of "development" work (as well as missionary work) is much different in reality than the glamour that I have envisioned in my mind and I doubt my ability to do it. I finished "The Shack" the other day, and it was the timely reminder that yeah...hey, Anna it won't be you...but Him. Good book. Much needed and appreciated God. Thank you.

With about three weeks left in this trip, I want to bask in the present and try best as I can, to stop my mind from spinning into the unknown, the future. In the book, "God" was saying how often we spend the most time in the future, and in a future we imagine that is often without God. How true that is when I think of how I will prepare for graduate school, with little room for God to do his every miracles. So here's to that and so my house finding journey continues.

I miss home, I really do and I really want to pick up a stray cat but my mind keeps saying to me...rabies! The girls are great though, and I am so thankful for this summer. I was telling Jenny and Tiffany how this is the longest time I've hung out with just girls!

Someone's watching over me...

2008-07-14T04:26:00.002-05:00

A sunset cruise with island exploring and snorkelling in Koh Phi Phi sounds like a wonderful idea...until the boat stops in the middle of the ocean by random limestone islands and everyone jumps out into the water. Well, that is if you are like me and can't really swim. I don't know how I didn't think about how I would be able to snorkel but the idea really didn't cross my mind. Thus, when a Thai boy (a guide but on his off afternoon) offered to teach me how to snorkel for a can of beer on the boat, I took him up on the offer. I didn't die and the one hour was amazing. I saw this sign that said something like "You think you're a traveller? 70% of the earth is water" and my tiny glimpse of the underwater life was unbelievable, the coral and bright fish, even in the little that I saw, blew my mind and somehow I naturally breathed out of my mouth. A few gulps of salt water and waves tossing me about, with Ti's help, I survived and like I was telling Tiff, somebody really is watching over me...

The next stop was Maya Bay, where the movie "The Beach" was filmed. I think all good things in life must come after a difficult and risky journey because in order to get to the beach, we had to jump out of the boat, swim to this random little hole in the island, while waves pound you against the slippery rocks. Ti literally dragged me along in my life jacket, and I never thought I would make it...so the next time I think something is difficult, I will think about the waters and the amazing white sand at the beach. Seriously, the most breathtaking beach in my life.

A night in a bamboo hut and an elephant ride in Chiang Mai, Thailand has been exciting and it is a wonder how the Thai people do it, living it up like it is everyday while I pray everytime that we will be safe.

2008-07-07T09:06:00.003-05:00

My first mini-breakthrough moment today was being able to do the back crawl! Well..my strange non-straight version anyways of doing something resembling rotating shoulders and arms and managing to stay afloat and kicking. Today is swim number five and my favourite pool yet...because it was 1.4 meters the entire way and empty! LOL I guess not that many people swim in resorts at 8am in Phuket.

The girls went diving today and I would love to dive, except for the small detail that I really need to be comfortable being in water that goes over my head. What I did today was purposely go underwater and look around, it is amazing how much better one feels when you can see. Thank God for googles. More and more I am realizing that maybe I am more of an introvert by nature, extrovert by training. I didn't mind being alone today, even though eating by yourself at a restaurant is still a bit funny. I still can't do it without a book at hand.

No matter what continent, not feeling well sucks so I was also glad to just be able to relax today. I didn't realize how stressed my body has become (my period was over 10 days late!!!). Whenever I feel under the weather like now, I miss the comforts of home and the feeling of being taken care for by somebody else.

Phuket is the side of the island that the tsunami hit. Most of the buildings I see are fresh and new. Looking at the deep blues and green hues of this tropical paradise, it is difficult to imagine the wreck the waters brought only a few short years ago. Do you believe in ghosts and spirits? How many lost souls, no one knows. Without tourism, there is no way this town would have been rebuilt so quickly and I think of the regions that maybe aren't so lucky to be blessed by foreigners in this way.

I was saying to the girls yesterday as we boarded the boat for the James Bond Island tour how I wanted to meet a cute boy in Thailand. What do you know but by the end of the day, a cute Thai boy (a bit too dark for me, but cute Thai boy nonetheless) gave me as we were leaving the boat, a rose made out of two straws (red and green). As Tiff and I were talking today, SE Asia has been great for our egos. Already we are taller than most of the girls. LOL. We went "canoeing" Thai style at two of the islands yesteday and it was super cool and great...except for the fact that the whole time I was thinking "I am going to fall off" (it's like this plastic boat with shallow seats not the deep wooden canoes that I'm used to in Canada!) and "damn I can't swim in this open water". Fortunately, no accidents and going to see these limestone caves, with its lonely lagoons and low openings (the tide goes in and out really fast) that we had to lie down flat to get to...was super cool. As was the jellyfish and other of nature's wonders in the waters. Honestly though, I was so nervous and I guess this is the stress my body is finally releasing today. You don't know how scared I was though when we were inside the lagoon and the tide was rising and our guide said that he had two occasions where they had to swim back because the tide was too high for the canoe to get through the opening. That would have been so NOT COOL. Whew.

Twelve more days in Thailand...maybe some morning I will have a breakthrough and suddently be able to do the front crawl with more than two breaths before collapsing. Rhythm, rhythm...

2008-07-04T04:14:00.003-05:00

KL is a much more developed city than I imagined. Being my third short trip in KL, I am quickly finding it to be a livable, vibrant city. The power of brand recognition amazes me, even as I walk into convenience stores I don't trust myself to buy products that I don't recognize. The power of marketing eh? Malaysian food is great but I was so happy today in Chinatown with my bowl of wonton noodles. It's the little simple things in life that matter after all. Exploring Chinatown today reminded me of all other Chinatowns in the world that I have visited: San Fran, London, Montreal and the like all with its familiar gaudy red arch and rows of vendors. National pride or no, I couldn't help but feel a surge of "pan-Chinesim". This time, the vendors had cute Malaysian accents and I managed to pick my long coveted brown and tan striped Adidas jacket for 35 ringgets. Fake or not, I like it! The ethnic mix in KL makes the city special and as John pointed out interesting buildings and facts about the city, I marvel at the way the government handled ethnic integration. The consequences from colonialization from Britian, the Second World War (the Pacific War), and migrant workers all contribute to the city's eccletic mix and it is fascinating. I have also never been to a Muslim country, and the architecture and laws of the land reflect it. The grips of theocracy remains as little strands, and it made me realize that gods still rule some lands outside of North America.

As we walk down the streets, even in KL, I feel a little bare with my skirt and tank top. I wonder if the locals stare at us and think of us as blasphemous, girls dressed like this. If my skin was white, at least they would understand, but with my tan, I can easily pass for a SE Asian, except for the way I talk and dress of course.

2008-07-01T20:02:00.001-05:00

Two Worlds

Sometimes like this morning, I have strange thougths trying to reconcile the blessings I have through this travel and knowing that I will be heading home in August to re-enter student life (and a very tight student budget). Just for some days like the spa day yesterday, I think about what life would be like if this was the everyday. I watched the Forbes "Top 20 under 25" the other night (as you can tell, I don't watch TV normally or else I wouldn't be so intrigued) and I just can't imagine. To most of the people we have met during our travels, from drivers to our spa therapist to the receptionist, whenever they ask where we are from. The conversation usually moves from surprise that we are Asian but we are Canadaian so a lofty smile. And I feel like wow. We are the chosen and privileged ones to be Canadian. And we are and I don't think I have ever been more proud to be Canadian than during this trip.

Worry
I am trying to not worry about not having secured housing yet for the fall and not really having reliable internet access in the meantime. I guess it's another lesson in faith, kind of like floating on your back for the first time (which by the way, I can totally do now).

Up next...back to KL and than Thailand!

2008-06-29T23:20:00.002-05:00

A Story about Anna in the Ocean

Having grown along the Pacific Northwest, it is hard to believe that I have never swam in the Pacific Ocean. But I did it! Against my will, as we were bananaboatnig the other day in Bali (so...the other side of the Pacific Ocean...), our driver asked Jenny in broken English if we wanted to "flip up". Jenny thought he meant if we wanted to catch bumpier waves so she quickly agreed. Unexpectantly as we were laughing and being silly...the next thing I knew was that I found myself in the ocean...in shock! Of course we had on life jackets but mine was too big (and old) and I quickly started to panic. After some harlarious laughter (I was so mad), we managed to all pile back on our banana boat and went about our way. Still, it was not my best experience of being in the ocean but I was cursing to myself all the way back...Anna you really need to learn how to swim. Thus this morning was my second try at swimming at the more shallow lane pool. A few gulp fulls of water down my stomach and gasping breaths, I am slowly getting more comfortable with the water and can now do two breaths in front crawl. I am going to throw my kid in the water so they don't have to experience this pain. Nonetheless, just like learning to bike a few years ago...thus continues my adventures in stretching my limits and reaching for the unknown...To redeem the day, salt water does taste kind of good, and parasailing, jetskiing and fly fishing were much more fun than my banana boat experience.

Temples and Worship

There are gorgeous temples in Bali, as there was in China and every other place I have hit. Whether it is against the backdrop of the crashing waves and the sunset (like the Tanah Lot temple last night) or on top of hills (like in China), wherever there is beauty in creation mankind seems to have built monuments of worship to their gods. It is an incredible sight. I watched a National Geographic special on the First Emperor and the Terracota Warriors this morning; it was amazing because I was there! But even more amazing thinking about the power and fear of one man (of death), that led him to create such art works and history, and also cause such brutality. Never have I been more grateful and in awe of my Jesus, who I know is more than mercury or bronze or silver. The dominant religion in Bali is Hinduism and everywhere, in front of every little street shop there are food offerings to the Hindu gods, I am still in shock of it and realizing that there is so much more to religion than my North American eyes.

Thoughts about school

Travelling to SE Asia has been like walking through my textbooks in the last five years. I have had great conversations with locals (bus drivers, taxi drivers, friends, etc) about the development of each country I've hit. The basic questions about the government, economy, social networks and democracy have been some of my favourite part of the trip and I am surprised and happy at the frank and open answers I have received, even when I ask them about their former dictators. Cities like KL are much more developed than I imagined, but poverty also seeps everywhere, even to the four star resorts and city centres. These cracks and glimpes of the life of the common folk are the images I've tried to capture, and what I hope will influence my thoughts as I head into social planning at UT in the fall. My mind is blown away in thinking about how to pursue basic development like education, infrastructure, and healthcare, nto to mention softer things. Sewage treatment is complicated. Water is precious. There are way too many people living in this part of the world for everyone to live like North Americans. I took a bubble bath today in our tropical terrace room and used more water in an hour than who knows what. I don't have a thesis topic yet but thoughts are constantly blowing away my mind.

2008-06-17T09:53:00.003-05:00

Where my mom grew up in Mong Kok | TST Avenue of the Stars...Aaron Kwok! My all-time favourite HK popstar!

I went to the Vine (http://www.thevine.org.hk/) for Sunday service and it was the best two hours of my time in Hong Kong. There is something special about meeting in the house of the Lord and I was just so happy and so ready to do anything; it's like coming home while away from home. It wasn't just the creative, vibrant vibe I got at the Vine
(their small groups and ministries are amazing! I would sooo join in their community projects) but the speaker was talking about Micah 6:8 which is my life verse. I've been starting to feel quite homesick and alone (though not alone) and it was just a gift from heaven.

I hung out with Auntie Chick again today and we went to Mong Kok to see the still existing apartment where my mom's parents lived, and where my mom actually grew up. I felt that it was just a trip down memory lane for me as it was for Auntie Chick; she grew up with my mom and told me about their times on the streets and how the neighbourhood has changed. At times like these, I realize that maybe this trip is more than I imagined. These trips to explore my grandparent's and parent's lives in Hong Kong, spending time in Singapore with my fourth uncle (leaving for Singapore tomorrow!) and moving to Toronto (where my other two uncles live) for grad school...make me wonder if God has a greater plan for me. Family has always been a difficult part of my life and it seems like I am going around the globe (literally) to unite these loose ends and bring peace. I recently talked to Helinda too on Facebook!

As always, God has blessed my days with more than I could ask for or imagine...

2008-06-12T03:46:00.002-05:00

And thus ends my two week China journey...waiting to catch our 13 hour train back to Hong Kong tonight from Guilin. I slipped and fell on the street when we got out of the taxi (torrental downpour today!) so my butt is wet and I have new bruises. LOL.

There are temples and and pagodas everywhere here, on every hill and facing every water source, but no churches in sight. There is much devotion to the gods, but the statues of gold, bronze and steel offer only emptiness in my eyes. In development, China is still a developing country and the rapid pace of modernization can be seen in every major city and every countryside. At first, the sight of old shanty houses, with leaky roofs made of bamboo and whatever else disturbed me. The crowds of street vendors selling everything from scorpions on a stick to Chinese qiaopuos made me pity the hard lives of the 1.3 billion people. But you know, China's not just about that, people struggling to survive. They are quite a vibrant, persevent people - I loved seeing the old people doing tai chi and dance with ribbons and sing their old folk songs at the park. Life might not be at the standards that I expect, with my foreign eyes (I still don't like squatter toilets but I can appreicate them), but they live and live vibrantly. I went to eat at this dingy rice noodle places last night, for a bowl of local noodles, Guilin speciality for 4.5 yuan (less than 50 cents CDN). It was great! I have never eaten at such a dingy place though but you know, despite my tummy rumblings (a little today), people get by and it's just a different kind of normal I suppose.

The scenery along the Li River is gorgeous and I feel like I walked in a Chinese painting with the mountains, birds and rivers. God is everywhere if we choose to see him. I liked talking to our tour guide about Chinese history and politics. Hmmm this is the side of research I have yet to be exposed too, I remember Yves saying there are two ways to do research - one, from books and statistics and two, from travelling and observing and getting ideas. I guess this is the research class I haven't taken yet. I find that people are quite open and friendly. We've had such helpful taxi drivers and random people we have met on the street. I guess at the back of my mind I still had the idea of the Maoist China but things have changed much since the 1970s. I think people are just trying to get a living, like everywhere else in the world.

It is strange to be a foreigner in my "native" land. Whenever we met other tourists (Caucaisan), I feel that I can relate to them more than to the local Chinese. It's weird too being discriminated against by your own ethnic "race". Yesterday when we were on the river cruise, we sat with three British travellers (quite nice). During the entire ride, the local Chinese servers never paid attention to us, and when they came around to sell merchandise, whether it was snake vodka or Olympic t-shirts, they never once asked us. Jenny got a seal made with her Chinese name carved yesterday in the markets in Yangshao; I would have liked to have one made, but our three heads put together, we couldn't put together my Chinese name. I can't even write it or even knows what each character means! So sad, so sad. It's time I invest some time in Chinese. I did have this written down, but I left the piece of paper sadly in Hong Kong.

Something I thought I would never use in China...French! But it seems at every turn, we have met French tourists! As we are trying to spend the rest of our four hour wait, we went to a random bookstore carrying very few English books, so Jenny and I ended up reading a copy of "Le Petit Prince" that had English, Chinese and French. Welcome globalization.

Honestly, I don't know if I don't like travelling or if I am just tired and need a few days rest at "home" (thank goodness for our HK and Singapore rest days). The first thing I have to buy when I get back to HK is a LOT of snacks, because I get soooo hungry.

Arrival at Beijing

2008-06-02T07:48:00.001-05:00

The temperature is so much cooler here than in Hong Kong - no humidity! But I feel like as we were walking down Wangfujing that I'm being bitten everywhere. I am so tired from the early morning flight and just finding the hostel and the tour place. Now finally those things are done and I can start to relax and enjoy, afterall this is the leg of the trip that I planned! The hostel is nice, the bathroom and the room is clean enough for $17 a night downtown Beijing. The location is amazing so I am glad this worked out. This is the first time staying at a hostel and I already appreciate good western cleaniless! I don't think I am cut out for the bush at all and I am starting to be so thankful that we are travelling in mostly 4 and 5 star hotels this trip, save the HK and Singapore parts where we are staying at rich relatives' places. That leaves only Beijing and Bangkok for hostelling...thank goodness. I am not sure I am a traveller, or maybe just not this grungy kind. I brought no skirts, no frills and no heels and I totally sport the Jane Goodall MEC look. Comfort above all else here. I think this will be really good for me, to be away from technology (haha save the fact that I am already using the Internet first night at the hostel!) and away from beauty stuff. I was so self conscious in HK, much less here so probably because I feel more like a tourist.

I think I am still adjusting to being in Asia, with the heat and just the environment. I don't know if I am truly really enjoying it yet, coming thus far to Beijing has been a relief to me because I was responsible for this part. I remind myself that it has only been a week, so it's not bad. Still though, I am kind of looking forward to the day of being back home. My clean, green, and most of all, familiar home. Bah...only to leave again of course after three weeks. Needless to say, I miss home.

Each day so far has been like a hundred days like Sean said it would be. I have had a billion thoughts about everything.

Beijing is really international, from the people at the airport to the people around me right now at the hostel. I love that. I think taxi drivers here are the craziest, even more so than HK because so many people bike here, and taxies just cut in front of bikers. I originally thought it would be cool to bike here but now I think we would just die, I still feel scared when I cross the street. The city is much cleaner than I anticipated and the streets are super wide, kind of like Washington D.C. I think with all the pandemics and health problems, all of China, especially the big cities, improved in their sanitation.

Thank goodness!

I do feel like I am absorbing more Cantonese and Mandarin, thank goodness Jenny is here and knows how to speak mandarin and read Chinese. So far, we all get along and the dynamics are working out. Jenny and I spent yesterday afternoon together and I feel like we bonded. I hope to have similar experiences with Tiff and Yo, so I think it will be okay. I talked to Jenny about it too, my original (and still) hesitations about coming on this trip.

Already I have a greater appreciation of home and an admiration for meandering travellers.

A few thoughts before leaving for Beijing…

2008-06-01T09:25:00.014-05:00

A picture by the fountain

On Friday, I went to Tsuen Wan with Auntie Chick in order to visit the place where I grew up in Hong Kong “Lok Yurn Fa Yuen”. I remember this picture I had taken in front of the water fountain at the centre of the apartment complex when I was about four; it must have been taken after school on a birthday party day because I was wearing my school uniform, with a birthday hat on my head and goodie bag in hand. The moment I stepped into the fountain area, 18 years later, I remembered that picture and vaguely remember walking home, holding my sister’s hand down that same path.

Ummm so I think this was the actual fountain...but I forgot to take a picture of myself with it LOL

I don’t have very many memories from my time in Hong Kong. There is me jumping on my parent’s bed with my brother at home, the only air conditioned room. There’s me crying because my siblings cheated me out of some toy. There’s me asking my sister’s piano teacher if I could play piano, (I actually sat on the bench) and her smiling and telling me that my four year old fingers were still a little too small. I remember the sight of my mother’s back (because she was always leaving) and the hand of my Pilipino nanny Sarah (who I didn’t like because I wanted mommy) as we walked through the streets with vendors selling all sorts of trinkets to and from school. I remember the night before leaving for Canada, going out to dinner with my mom’s parents at a restaurant, and walking back through streets selling all sorts of delicacies like live snakes.

This was the apartment where I lived, no memories of the exterior.

Coming back to where I came from (literally), is a bit of a surreal experience. It’s been a week now in Hong Kong and I am getting used to the weather and the hustle and bustle (getting used to it, not necessary preferring it) and I wonder how life would have turned out if 1997 didn’t happen (see how important politics is!). I can imagine more the lives of my parents before they had me (as children we never think of our parents as people and not our parents). What a feat moving to Canada really is, how different and distant are the lands from each other. Leaving Vancouver to go to grad school in Toronto is hard enough for me already; I will complain about getting to go home only once every four months while I now realize, my parents have never gone back to their “home” in Hong Kong in 18 years. My sister went back for the first time in the fall of 2006 and I am second. There are political reasons (haha) of course, with my dad’s paranoia about grandpa’s past as a KMT official (the governor of Suzhou! Crazy eh?) and I think they are planning the trip soon. But still. I think of those European pioneers that journeyed for months on a ship from Europe to North America in search for a better life and perhaps, gold. My parents were pioneers too.

About a man

Journalistic photographers often face the dilemmas of the ethnics of photographing distressing scenes such as people in pain, poverty or death. On the one hand, photographing is a medium that helps to convey the message to the world, but on the other hand, one feels like they are exploiting their subject. As an aspiring photographer, I run into this dilemma every time I take a photograph of a street person, a vendor or a building. As a thinker, I run into similar issues. Here I am, I think think think about the social condition of Hong Kong (and every other place I will visit in the next two months) and there is a helplessness and uselessness of just thinking and not actually doing anything but sightseeing, shopping and eating. I am going to study to be a social planner and do all sorts of things, one part of my brain says, but my heart still pounds and bleeds. And so I write and hope that these few words will remind an older “social planner” me and those around me, what life is really all about. Please Anna, never forget and don't ever stop bleeding. There are sights that should never exist.

So I saw the same man again today laying face down on Fa Yuen Street in Mong Kok, which is one of those little pedestrian streets with three rows of vendors with a traffic of thousands of people daily. He’s got a wheelchair and he lies face down on the pavement on top of a blanket, wearing only shorts. The only noises he makes comes from his hand, where he bangs his tin cup every few seconds. His black shorts cover the only parts of his legs, both legs have been amputed from the knee down. I don’t know much about amputations but the scar looks horrendous (can these scars look nice, I don’t know), kind of like a bow except with skin.

There are a million reasons of how this man arrived at his present state. He could have been one of those people who gambled his life away or as innocent as a person who just fell into hard times. Maybe he’s a war veteran or someone who is being used as a bait to get money for sympathy (think Cambodia). I don’t know, only God knows but damn I can’t get the image out of my head. In a city like Hong Kong (as in every city but in varying degrees and dimensions), a mix of merit and hereditary separates the rich and the poor. I accept that, but I believe that we can make this gap more narrow and tip the scales a little bit more to be a compassionate society. This is why I think Plato and the other Greek philosophers are so important – meritocracy is such an quintessential value in our society. But if we only give others what they deserve, as Shakespeare writes in Hamlet, than “who will escape a whipping?”

“There’s gotta be more to life than chasing down every temporary high to satisfy me” – Stacy Orricio.

And to end off on a completely different random note...HK Disneyland! Just because this is my coolest jumping picture to date. Another walk down memory lane, I remember going to LA Disneyland when I was 8 with my auntie and cousin

2008-05-29T07:35:00.004-05:00

I am all shopped out. I never thought I would say this – but Hong Kong has shopped me out.

I don’t think I could live in this city. Good food, good shopping but I can’t really run outside. There are nice views in this island city, and lots of gorgeous places I am sure on the many little islands…but I miss Vancouver with its grass and clean air!

Gosh what am I going to do in Toronto!? If Toronto is a global city like Hong Kong, with food, shopping, culture and humidity…I better learn to play more indoor sports.

To be honest, I am a little homesick already. I never thought I was ever much of a homebody but I am. I miss my cat and my family. I think it’s also knowing that when I come back, I will only be home again for three weeks before going to Toronto for grad school. A big part of me is thinking this is it, do this trip and do grad school and then settle somewhere in Metro Vancouver with a job and a down payment for a house. It’s not so much the “stuff” but I think I want to start a family of my own soon too. I guess family has become more and more important to me, or maybe it’s because I had never given it much of a place of importance in my heart until now. I don’t know how it will all work out, I pray for God’s leading and I am so thankful for a supportive family.

I almost didn’t want to go on this trip right before I left, which is my normal reaction to things. Five days in, already I feel like each day has been a hundred like Sean said it would be in traveling. My brain and my heart can’t help it but my eyes and my thoughts run across politics, social welfare and the like with every new scene in Hong Kong. How accessible is the city for the disadvantaged? (do you know how FAST the escalators on the MTR go? I am still afraid of tripping) Is the city designed with a socially conscious mindset? (much more green, probably because it has to be) What is the prevailing ideology? (ummm..anyplace where your head of state is called “Chief Executive”…says something) I can’t help but to think of these questions…probably makes me a not so fun travel partner, or maybe, depending who you are I suppose. I just spent some time looking up information on the government’s website just to see what the official documents say. “Non-compulsory contributions” to social welfare and all. Everyone says that Hong Kong is the capitalists’ dream, with personal income tax rates capped at 16% (which is around the lowest bracket in Canada), also very local corporate taxes and no sales tax (which is great for shopping). It’s like HK’s welfare is so different than the one I know, paid by for taxes. With its religious schools (my mom and grandmother taught at Christian schools in HK) and hospitals, there is so much more private philanthropy here and I like that because people care when they make these investments. The government is probably the worse provider of social services but we also need the government (or so my neo-liberal ideology has taught me to think) to regulate and to stimulate. It’s a delicate dance I think, when it comes down to it nonetheless…lots of thoughts…

Again, I realize I really need my Anna time. So my time journaling everyday continues, in order to preserve my sanity and the sanity of those who have the pleasure of traveling with me.

This is KFC in HK...they have chicken wings! And Portgeuse egg tarts!

This is a Shogun burger meal (sooo Japanese style paddy with an egg!) at McDonald's with a side of corn. I also had a green tea and red bean ice cream sundae the other day....Micky D's...the king of globalization with its brand recognition and localization...! Starbucks here also has mango frappes!

A part of me...

2008-05-28T11:16:00.008-05:00

`
View from great grandma "Ta ma"'s grave, nice eh?

Though I think I’ve been to a cemetery once in Toronto when I was a kid for my grandpa’s funeral, I have no recollections of a cemetery save what I’ve read in books and seen in movies. Going today to “Bok Fu Lam”, a Chrisitan cemetery at the edge of Hong Kong Island overlooking the South China Sea to visit my grandpa and great grandma was a completely new experience for me. I never met either of them, but I was standing there by their wall (they were cremated, only rich people have full graves in HK), I couldn’t help but think about the generations that have come before me, and that have made me who I am.

I never knew that my great grandmother was a Christian. I never knew that my dad looked so much like his dad. I took pictures of their grave sites to show grandma, and also so I won’t forget. It took a heck of a time getting to the cemetery and there is no way I could have gotten there without Pastor Li taking me there, me not knowing how to read any Chinese and the cemetery being so isolated. Because she is a pastor, she knew the caretakers there, and providence would have it so that when it started to pour (and it POURS in this part of the world) and I was starting to get bitten from mosquitoes…as we were waiting for the bus (that only came once every blue moon) the owner of the place drove by, and him knowing Pastor Li, gave us a lift down to the MTR wayyyy down the hill. Crazy eh?

Seeing Pastor Li this morning and having dinner with Auntie Chick last night, both of whom I have barely any recollection of, though I have often heard their name spoken at home, was…I can’t put a word to it…special? They are both people who know my family well, and Auntie Chick was in the delivery room actually when my mom gave birth to me! She’s like my mom’s best friend, from high school to now! Being in HK and seeing these people, it’s like adding pieces of the puzzle that is me, that many often many people don’t start to put together until after their parents die. You know what I mean? I think I am seeing nearly ALL of my family this year (HK, Singapore, Toronto)...which is an area that I haven't touched, and that I have always cited as a sore spot in my family. I guess I am no longer afraid, and I am even eager to face it, skeletons and all. To see the beauty in the broken, and to find joy in it.

I think Mendel got it right about the genes. Genes do pass down the generations, things like the fact that I am studying the social sciences like my mother, the long line of teachers from both sides of the family, the faith. Pastor Li was saying how I look like mom but my mannerisms are similar to dad. It’s kind of cool, because I never really took much of an effort to get to know my family (or maybe even wanted to know) until the last few years.

Lots to write and lots going through my head.

A tale of two cities? Look carefully at the top apartments on the picture on the right side.

Yes it is...the Coach store is designed like a Coach signature bag! I have seen brand name stores here that I have only EVER seen in magazines! This is better than New York. This is also my fourth consecutive day shopping...(not in these stores of course) and I do sicken myself a little.

Gotta like them fishes on the street...I like fishes cuz there'll so delicious...LOL

First day in Hong Kong

2008-05-25T06:55:00.003-05:00

So I survived the 14 hour plane ride, a taxi and mini bus ride, and the sweltering humidity…and even went on the MTR today without getting lost!

It is surprisingly easy to get around in Hong Kong, and though I can’t read or write any Chinese, I find myself surprisingly at ease in this fast-paced (the escalators go faster here!), rat race chasing (seems like everything is about money money money…they have so many designer brand shops!) of a city. This is my first time coming to Hong Kong since I immigrated to Canada when I was five years old, but I find myself quite at leisure.

Alvina aunt’s place is in Kowloon Tong and it seems like quite a nice area to live. The view from our bedroom window is gorgeous, typical of all Hong Kong night views. As we rode in the taxi today, the gap between the rich and the poor is starkly evident: from the dirty back alleys to the run down apartment buildings to the extensive use of servants by any one who has money.

It reminded me a bit of New York but with an Asian twist, with the taxi driving and feel that “this-is-your-city-if-you-have-money”. Again, I was home once I hit a shopping mall (Festival City today).

I noticed quite a few efforts to being green here, from full and half flush toilets to the “save the trees” signs in the bathrooms. The MTR runs in three languages Cantonese, English and Mandarin, giving Hong Kong quite the cosmopolitan character. The British influence remains and I can see the positive impacts this benign colonizer had on this once little port city.

Can’t wait to see more of my birthplace that I largely know/remember from watching TVB shows, including hopefully visiting my grandfather’s (dad’s dad) grave (never got to meet the man, died when my dad was 18).

The view of the South China Sea and the mountains (or rather hills) on Lantau Island on the airport express from the airport to Tsing Yi was beautiful. The view of the line of palm trees against the sea, divine. Nice city, but I don't think I would live here.

One Year

2008-05-01T01:07:00.012-05:00

QT and I at Holt Renfrew downtown...what a wall eh?

Rereading again the emails I got back from my coworkers at HC makes me sad about leaving. Today was my last day of my year as a public servant. Crazy eh? One year already! It seems only like yesterday that I was finishing up my honours thesis at UBC.

I was browsing through my entries this time last year when I finished my last class at UBC, and I was struck at how similar yet different, I have become.

I think I am still an idealist and a dreamer, and insightful but I think I am a bit more focused. Maybe it is because I have finally made a decision about doing planning at UT, which is crazy – maybe it’s because I am going to Asia! This point last year, I had these things floating in the air, but here we are, materialized.

I think I want to teach in some capacity, I will definitely apply to TA during my masters. See how that goes, I know I want to work for a bit, but yeah, teaching will fit somewhere. It’s interesting how I got the opportunity to teach at HC, through giving tutorials and troubleshooting on the Intranet and training my successor. That was really cool, really tiring, but I enjoyed it and I think I’m quite good at it naturally. The organizational skills fit in nicely, and yeah. So funny how the teaching and counselling part has come up lately, in the most random places. I think they will come into play in big ways...I'm not sure how yet, but yeah. Maybe like Mati said in the car, I just want to take it to a higher level than the conventional...or as Nisha said, it's the creative side that kicks in wanting to be more than just a high school teacher.

My coworkers are really going to miss me, they have expressed and I can see it. My office really liked the cards I made for them and I liked making them too, to be able to be creative in that capacity. The emails I got back from people I have gotten to know outside my office, through yoga/pilates, events or whatnot were really great and encouraging too. They like me! And they said I shine – I am shining for Jesus and people see. How special is that.

This is the best kind of parting. I’m sad to go, but it’s time and it’s good. I’ve learned so much at HC, both professionally and personally, and it all just ties up nicely this chapter of my life. What seemed like such a mess and so uncertain then, just a year later, is all fitting into place. That is God’s blessing and provision - and timing.

I was talking to mom last night about Toronto and I really noticed upon reflection that I am defensive. Maybe sometimes I don’t let other people help me and be there for me, it’s like the self dependent attitude that is so hard to break, that Aaron has managed to break, so naturally. I gotta work on this, and it's going to be hard, but I think my family and my friends want to play a larger part in my life. And it's about time that I let them and lower the shields a little.

Life really is a journey as much as it is the destination. I imagine it’s like your wedding day and nothing can compare to the day, but it’s not just about the day, but the entire process that has led up to the day. I feel like in life, most of the time we are spending in the process rather than having arrived at the destination. Our destinations, or train stations if you will, are the valleys and mountains tops of our lives, and are brief. What matters more is the way up and down the mountain. Things have come to a comfortable and such a good place at home, and I have to leave soon. Maybe knowing that time is finite, really having that in your face, totally changes your attitude and approach towards time. I wish I would have this attitude all the time, but I think human beings are just fickle that way. Nonetheless, I will treasure each moment today. Thank you God.

It is 11:21PM PST on a weeknight and I don't have to go to bed! Such a weird feeling that I hadn't had for a year. Finally, for the first time in my life, I have four months to rest. I watched Enchanted tonight after dinner with my mom and sister, such a nice, perfect wrap up to my last day.

The Race

2008-04-20T23:44:00.004-05:00

My first Sun Run!

The loud speaker blars, “On your marks, get set, go!”
The human wave moves at the horn’s blow
Nervous, cold, bouncing from foot to foot
Somehow she musters up the courage to follow

1km – one is for the first, always sweet, times in life
The baby steps, slow dances and first loves
She passes the first marker with slight hesitation
As her ams and legs warm to fall into manifestation

3km – two is company but three is more fun
The sound of three best friends in the sun
“The best friend a girl could have”, I’d always say
There is always room for shopping and chick flicks

5km – five is the number in her family plus a cat
All who have walked through the dark valley -
Her eyes stray to eye the top of the steep hill
Towards the fifth marker, she runs with all her will

7km – seven is the symbol of God’s perfection
On the seventh day he rested with satisfaction
Crossing the bridge over the sparkling water
She pauses to breathe in creation’s goodness

9km – nine is the number of lives of a cat
Are more lives lost near the end or the beginning?
Her mind perks at the sight of the finish line
Oh God, when will the prize finally be mine?

10km – ten is the day and month of her birthday
She finally accepts whatever comes, hard as it may
A mixture of sweat and relief with thousands around her
Such energy, such beauty – such vitality and life!

And as one race finishes here, another begins there
In the ever intertwined story of humanity -
For joy is to sorrow, as fear is to courage
There is always room for faith, and one to encourage

May you watch over my steps, she kneels to pray -
For every lonely night and each beautiful day.

Getaway

2008-04-14T22:08:00.004-05:00

It has been a gorgeous three spring days in Vancouver. Blue skies and snowed capped mountains, lakes and the ocean all around enveloped in cherry blossoms – what more can a girl ask for? The beauty is surreal.

I am trying very hard not to freak out in waiting. Everyday on the way home on the skytrain I wonder if a letter or package from SSHRC came, even though I keep saying to myself that it will come on a day when I am not expecting it. I looked again at my application package today, and I realized that I misspelt my street name on the form under “current address” even though my permanent address is correct. I laughed at myself, a part of me secretly wondering, is this why I haven’t heard anything yet? I just finished firing off an email confirming the correct spelling of my street. I reread the guidelines on the website on how the funds will be used and distributed, and what I have to do if I end up changing programs and schools. I applied for SSHRC for political science at UT, but if I decide to go into planning at UT, I am not sure if that would affect my eligibility. Really, I am interested in the same damn thing. I am interesting in changing structures, such as institutions or the rules of the game, in order to allow for more equitable and just social policies and programs. Same ideas, different possible applications with the two programs – I just…I just don’t know if it would still be OK…that is of course, that I win the darn award in the first place.

And what if I don’t win? I don’t know how my application could be better, if it can be better – I spent so long writing it, worked so hard to achieve the grades and the references. I’ll probably cry. Wait, I am already. I don’t know if I would still go if I didn’t get the award. My parents offered to help support me for my first year. That is a very difficult thing for me to accept, and I don’t know if I would really take up their offer. A part of my beats myself for traveling to Asia this summer instead of working to save money for grad school. Realistically, if I didn’t travel this summer and I worked, I would save enough for first year without a loan. But I know this is perhaps my only chance of traveling…I don’t know when the next opportunity would come, if it would. And I think, what is $17 500 worth? Is it worth all my anxiety over this anticipated award? I feel like it is worth so much, and yet so little. For all I know, I could get into a car accident tomorrow, easily totaling more than $17 500, or contract a deadly disease, with extra medical bills totaling easily ten times more than $17 500.

I remember that I had no idea how I would really afford to take that semester off UBC and go to TWU in Ottawa when I applied for the LLC. I didn’t even know how cold Ottawa would be, and could you believe that I never researched it? Or cared enough to research it? I just…went and believed I guess. I never thought I would win that $10 000 scholarship, I still remember checking my email nonchalantly as usual on one typical day while working that summer at Bard on the Beach, and literally falling off my chair when I saw that email saying "congratulations!" God are you trying to provide for me like that again? Either through this council or through my parents? I just feel that the stakes are so much higher. If I accept my parent’s money, for the first time in my life, I feel like I owe them performance. Perhaps more importantly, I owe myself performance. Even if I receive the award, I still think about how I am going to pay my second year tuition and living, and the student loans I have left over from my undergrad. It’s like this never ending cycle. The reality of life and survival is strong, and its chains bind me. But breathe Anna breathe, one day at a time...the world is not on your shoulders...though it feels like it sometimes.

It must be kind of nice not to have to worry about finances. To not have to work part time or during the summer to survive, and to be able to throw away things without repercussions. I know everyone has their burdens though, that I can’t discount or even compare. It’s not fair like that, but God you know what I mean. It’s just a passing feeling I get sometimes, like now.

I am having a really good time at home right now, with my family and with extended church family, and friends. These are the moments that you want to freeze and stay in forever – but I know they can’t last, or else they wouldn’t be so good. It’s like what the Greek gods said to mortals right? That it’s the gods who are jealous of mortals because their mortality makes every moment precious, everything count.

People at work have been really great. I can feel that they genuinely care about me, the offers from Catherine and Paula to ask people they know in Toronto about housing. When I told Catherine that I got into UT planning, she gave me a hug! It was so nice. I know my parents are proud and supportive, the way my mom told me about my parent’s financial offer, it’s just not expressed in the same way that’s all. I'm truly blessed.

I went to see my family doctor today to see the results of the blood and urine test – and no I am not anemic! Perfectly healthy. Peter just got another job again, at in telemarketing. He’s so happy whenever he gets an interview or offer, and he’s had quite a few now. I’m happy too, but I worry about my parents. It’s so nice to see that they have some time together off, like this weekend when my dad was actually home at nights. For years, he hasn’t been able to be home for dinner. Him being home is a rare occasion. I guess I just want to see my parents be able to enjoy their life instead of working so much in order to support the family, to support these kids that are suppose to have left the nest already. I dyed my mom’s hair on Saturday, pretty good job if I do say so myself, and I see her grays and whites. Just give me a few more years, the voice within me screams, and I’ll be able to help support you…But maybe they understand a more sacrificial love than I do, that enables them to go on everyday in spite of it all.

I am so scared and I am so sad, dramatized by my random bursts of tears. LOL, it’s like the song “Getaway” by Monica. Not a famous singer, but maybe the superwoman complex...

(verse 1)
started as a little girl
singing soul changed my world
flipped my world upside down
i got lost and i couldn't be found
so much on my shoulders
and so much on my mind
seems no one can help me
i think i just need some time

(Chorus)
sometimes i wish i could fly away
looking for a place to getaway
get away from all the heartache and pain
that life can bring
i really dont wanna sound
like i cant stand my ground
but everybody need some time
that they can getaway...

(verse 2)
sometimes i wish i was invisible
cause then no one would know where i am
to ask me for anything
cause ive given so much of me
when is it time for me to receive
cause Monica has her needs
who's gonna look out for me

(Chorus)
sometimes i wish i could hide away
looking for a place to getaway
get away from all the heartache and pain
that life can bring
i really dont wanna sound
like i cant hold my ground
but everybody need some time
that they can getaway...

(verse 3)
you know im not superwoman
and im not made of steel
i try my best to handle
all i have to deal with
not as easy as it seems
and to think this was my dream
now for everything i have im grateful
but sometimes i wanna getaway

(Chorus)
sometimes i wish i could hide away
looking for a place to getaway
get away from all the heartache and pain
that life can bring
i really dont wanna sound
like i cant hold my ground
but everybody need some time
that they can getaway...

(Chorus)
sometimes i wish i could hide away
looking for a place to getaway
get away from all the heartache and pain
that life can bring
i really dont wanna sound
like i cant stand my ground
but everybody need some time
that they can getaway...

And like there are other tracks on the CD, there are other tracks to life. Some tracks will be slower, some faster, and some sweeter than others. God, I leave it up to you to play those tracks out, may you give me the wisdom to live my days full of compassion and love. I really like this poem...

We cannot pray to You, O God, to end the war;
For we now that You made the world in a way
That man must find his own path to peace
Within himself and with his neighbor.
We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end starvation;
For you have already given us the resources
With which to feed the entire world
If we would only use them wisely.
We cannot merely pray to You, O God,
To root out prejudice,
For you have already given us eyes
With which to see the good in all men
If we would only use them rightly.
We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end despair,
For You have already given us the power
To clear away slums and to give hope
If we would only use our power justly.
We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end disease,
For you have already given us great minds with which
To search out cures and healing,
If we would only use them constructively.
Therefore we pray to You instead, O God,
For strength, determination, and willpower,
To do instead of just to pray,
To become instead of merely to wish.

The Seventh Day

2008-04-03T22:48:00.004-05:00

I seldom watch television, but once in a while a show will catch my eye. My mom, sister and I spent our free waking hours during the last two days watching The Seventh Day. It was good! So cheesy I know, and of course I cried, but so good.

Maybe God does answer my prayers in funny ways. I was pretty upset early this week, some frustrating circumstances at work that had me near tears at one point, and with what happened at home. As I went to bed Monday night and thought about on the skytrain rides to and from work, why me, why do all these bad things happen to me...the day-old questions since the beginning.

The TV series was about two couples, and the last big struggle for one of the couples was that the girl had a fatal genetic disorder. Can't give away the story, but when I was watching the show I was thinking about how many hurdles both couples had to endure. I always get angry and anxious during the times when they break up or aren't together, sometimes that's why I don't like watching these things! I know life is not television, but interesting I thought this particular series is a bit more down-to-earth and realistic than other HK dramas. I could relate to having to fight the battles, and basking in the good times when they come.

I think my life is at one of those 'good times' right now. If life were like a beaker of chemicals, I can see that there are many reactions that can take place at any moment that can change the entire composition to be too acidic or too basic. For now though, it's pretty neutral.

The most surprising part of this TVB series I think, was seeing the subtle hints of God. The storyline by the mostly-absent narrator/painter ended with the phrase regarding 'the seventh day' and how though creation was called into being on the other six days...it was that day that is the best, the most beautiful, because it was the day of rest.

Nothing in life is certain, and I more and more realize the fragility of life and my own mortality and the mortality of all those I love. I want to bask, to rest and to enjoy the beauty of this 'seventh day'.

2008-03-31T21:03:00.001-05:00

I haven’t been so angry for some time. I just feel as if the weight of the world, at least the world that is my family, lies on my bare bony, shoulders. It’s not like I wanted to yell at my 80something grandmother, but when the kettle loudly whistled in the kitchen - thank goodness I heard it - and I ran out to take it off the stove, I couldn’t believe that my grandmother was nowhere to be found. She had forgotten about the kettle and was upstairs, and of course couldn’t hear the kettle. Had I not been home, and normally I would have been out running, the house would have probably burned down as the stove element was on the highest setting. Even when I took the kettle off, there were sparks.

My grandmother means well, she wants to help out. With old age though, there are just certain things that one forgets and one isn’t able to do as well – things like fire and water are dangerous elements. I didn’t mean to yell at my grandmother, my only living grandparent, my intention was just to tell her that she doesn’t have to do these things. My family has been telling her this for a long time, but she feels guilty that if she doesn’t perform these tasks, we’ll be unhappy that they are undone. I tried to explain that’s not the case in my broken cantonese, and that there are other things she can do just as well if she wanted to help out, like washing vegetables. I feel sorry that my grandmother is bored. How could she not be? A widower and one with little formal education, there’s not much to do to pass the time away. At times like these sometimes I wonder if it’s better just to die or hire a private nursing maid. Sounds cruel doesn’t it but I’m being honest.

At the age of 22, I feel the weight of supporting my family. My sister’s consistent ill health, including bouts of IBS and scary carcinoids, my brother’s schizophrenia and lack of independence, and my parents trying to save for retirement in self employment…and take care of their elder kids. I scream and I yell in my mind - damnit why me? At the age of 22, I am trying to educate myself so I can provide for myself in the future, because I sure don’t have a trust fund or an inheritance waiting for me. More like than not, I will be supporting my family financially in the future. All I have is me. Sometimes, it’s difficult for me to associate with or not scream at people who complain about not having a significant other, a job or particular material possessions. But I try to smile and sympathize and not be a bitch and judge, but…there is so much more to life than these.

My heart breaks for elder abuse, which statistically happens more often than you think. My grandmother has pasts ghosts that haunt her, and undoubtedly drive some of her actions. Living through the communist revolution in China, it’s not had to see how hard it must have been falling from grace when her husband was a KMT official to being a refuge, dirt poor in Hong Kong. Seniors should be cared for within a loving community, not neglected and yelled at by people wishing they would just die.

Maybe I’m just selfish and I don’t want to lay my life down to sacrifice for my family – to give up my dreams and stay at home to serve them. It would require some superwoman effort, for example I could do my masters at UBC and still live at home commuting about 3 hours a day, or I could forget my masters altogether and take some kind of job that I don’t like but would pay the bills. I would be miserable but I could. I just don’t want to. Is it unloving? To use the best years of life this way. Maybe it’s just a matter of perspective. Maybe it’s circumstances that can easily change. Maybe…I have to give up my dreams and ambitions. So I ask myself, a very basic question. What does the Lord require of me? Why, my life verse, to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with him (Micah 6:8). What does that mean? How do I apply that? Perhaps it isn’t to make policy, to write fabulous articles, or to plan better programs like I dream but to be at home. And somehow find joy in it. I’ll let you know when I get there.

Kelly and I spent a day doing girlie things during the Easter weekend and one of the things we were talking amidst eating Bearded Paps and noodles was about suffering. She was saying how the reason the two of us are still friends, unlike many of our other high school relationships, is because we share many things in common, one of the most being the fact that we both went through a greal deal of shit in our teenage years. Different stories, for her it was a life-or-death surgery and all that goes along with it, and for me, it was a plague of diseases that befall upon my siblings. Many people that we know, but don’t really know, I am sure can relate to these kinds of experiences, and have likewise concluded that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”…and the hope, always the hope, that this means better days ahead.

God, I am on the ground faced down at this point. Please take this headache from me. It is gorgeous outside in Vancouver, and I have to believe, like Alex said to me last night, that “it’s OK and it’s going to be good.”

Love is the reason. Period.

2008-03-30T01:22:00.009-05:00

So I have finally mustered up the courage to watch A Beautiful Mind tonight at Alvina's house. The movie came out quite a few years ago and though I knew the gist of the storyline, I hadn't taken the initiative to watch it despite always referring to the movie, when explaining schizophrenia, my brother's condition, to others. In light of the reality that I may be leaving my fair city for graduate school, I'm trying to work through my list of mental, emotional and spiritual 'baggage' (you know those things that make you cringe when you think about them?), and tonight was one hit.

I liked the movie a lot, and even more so since it was based on the real-life story of John Nash. Although my brother is neither a mathematical genius nor Nobel Peace prize winner, my family can relate to the many of the characteristics and struggles depicted in the movie: the difficulty in getting the patient to realize they have a problem and to treatment, the side effects of treatment, the shame, and the feelings of anger, guilt and sadness to them, to God, to ourselves. Thank God that my brother was diagnosed in the 1990s and not the 1950s when the shock treatment was in its heyday, but the 'hit and miss' of chemicals in little capsules, remains.

I liked how the movie didn't have a 'happy ending' so to speak. At the end, even at the reception of the prize, John Nash wasn't able to get rid of the three people hallucinations. But I really like this line that John says, "I still see things that are not here. I just choose not to acknowledge them. Like a diet of the mind, I just choose not to indulge certain appetites; like my appetite for patterns; perhaps my appetite to imagine and to dream." Despite medical advances, there is no cure for schizophrenia, like many other mental illnesses and illnesses in general. There are just some things that are beyond the best of mankind, that one has to submit and accept. A person has to choose to live with them despite it, and fight. The people around have to, too. As I watched the movie, I had a mix of pity and admiration for John's wife, Alicia. To choose to love, simply because love is the reason even when there is no reciprocation. That's love. Have you ever thought about what it means "to live till death do us part". Can you imagine your other falling into some ill state, would you quit, nobody would blame you...except maybe yourself. There have been days when I definitely wanted to quit my family. Probably days where I did, momentarily at least.

I think circumstances change quickly. I was thinking, jokingly, in my mind recently how much "easier" it would be for my current decision-making process, if I ended up liking a fellow public servant type while I was in Ottawa. To marry a PS-er would seem so perfect and 'easy'. But life isn't like that, and more importantly, those are only circumstances. I think it's when you make the decision to tough it out when circumstances are difficult, that matters, that makes the difference. That's love. I think there's sacrifice. Maybe that's why the world is so attracted to sacrificial love.here have been rough rides with my family in terms of my bro, that I am now beginning to work through and understand, about ten years after they happened. There are rough waves right now in my current relationship, things that are just for the moment, outside both of our power. Sometimes life is just hard, or down right crappy. Sometimes, like today, and many days past, like Alicia, I just need to believe that something extraordinary is possible in order to get by.

2008-03-17T23:07:00.010-05:00

Kits Beach, Vancouver

Every so often, a day like today comes, where I am reminded that life really isn’t that complicated. I think I have a tendency of focusing so much on the decisions I have to make in front of me, that I think the rest of the world is disharmonious, when in reality, perhaps it is I who has fallen out of step with it.

I went for a quick run after work today in my neighbourhood. It was 8 degrees outside and the clouds opened up to allow a slight drizzle, the kind that kisses you with a touch both soft and refreshing to the skin. There’s a tiny stream that runs down the hill in the area, which eventually collects and feeds into Brunette River. Growing up, I played in the streams, fascinated by waterfalls and the like after seeing the majestic powers of Niagara Falls when I was eight. It’s been a while since I had visited this said stream, so when I innocently ran past one portion of it today, I was struck by the winding path of the stream. It reminded me of a winding road.

Life is no longer as straight and narrow as I once thought it was. There is this song by Jars of Clay called “This Road” and it talks about how the Christian life is the “straight and narrow”. Every since then, I held the view that life would be just that, straight and narrow, black and white. Gazing at the stream, thinking about it, I realize that maybe that is not what the author meant at all, that it is not the correct image at all.

Life comes with its twists and turns. What caught my eye about the stream was how beautiful it was, how the S-bends carved into the ground were shaped so perfectly, as if they were created to be exactly that way. When the song says that the road is straight and narrow, maybe it doesn’t mean that there are no bends, no twists and turns. After all, it’s not like our eighty-some years are a direct line from point A to point B. Accidents fall, miracles are born, life happens. I think it just means that our vision must be straight, and that ground we trot upon is narrow – as we trod and navigate through the twists and turns.

Looking back at my own little entourage of S-bends in life, many things have fit into place, where I never imagined and didn’t even know would fit into place. I remember filling out a form every year for “career and personal development” in high school. I remember filling in the boxes listing my five and ten year goals with something like “going to university” and “getting married”. Well, university is ending and here I am, arms open waiting, with empty boxes to fill once again. More twists and turns.

My prayer is that the pieces will continue to fall, as I continue to live, with the fear of God that compels me. I received a letter and another photo from Israel today, my sponsor child from Tanzania. What a beautiful country. With the real wisdom of a child, Israel shared with me a verse found in Proverbs 1:7. It says, the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Paraphrased, it's like acknowledging and following God is the starting point of being skillful in living. This is a famous proverb, and often preached. It just seemed different when I heard it today...I guess that's because it's my own message of love from across the world.

2008-03-04T00:23:00.005-05:00

"I know, I know, the sky is what makes the oceans blue..." (Ben Lee - Love me like the world is ending)

Most of the time, I try to find a reason for everything that happens, for good and bad things but mostly for the bad things that happen in life. It's like finding a reason for something helps comfort me, and make me feel better knowing that my suffering has some tall end. I feel like I am in one of those predicaments now, knowing in my mind that my present predicaments have meaning, namely to develop/refine my character, but it still sucks.

I am really glad my bro landed his first job, tho it's not the most ideal job for him, in my opinion. It's his first job though nonetheless and I want to pull my share of the weight and help out at home too, in order to support him. So when my dad asked me tonight if I could work for a few hours Tuesdays afternoons-evening after I finish work (since he can't work at the shop anymore obviously and my parents are teaching chinese school at the time), as my contribution to the family, I felt really selfish for NOT wanting to. But I really don't want to add a "few more hours" onto my 10 hour days, and be bored, bored, bored for a few more hours (there is only so much you can do when there is nothing to do...).

So I've been flipping through the little book of James and it is darn hard stuff. It talks a lot about developing patience and perseverence, about going through suffering and trials. About considering it joy. It's this whole deal about living well, living wisely, doing/being what you should be doing/being. It's a whole new response to living a life of love...and my response? Umm...sounds good guys, but I'm not there yet.

It's like there's this one prompt inside me that urges me to move out (go to grad school awayyyy in Toronto) and make a life for myself, sans the chains of 'the family'. And then there's the other part of my heart that tugs upon hearing that, and cries out, "Anna are you heartless?" Little birdie's gotta fly, indeed I think she left the nest a long time ago, but the nest is still the nest, sticky branches made with spit and all. The nest was never in many ways, in my eyes, sufficient, that is, it didn't measure up to the standards I imposed on itself - wasn't comfy enough, tall enough, and had enough time for me. But still, it's the one that shaped me, shapes me.

Life's been pretty difficult and I've been doing my fair share of asking the "whys" and mourning over "what wasn't" and "what was", and what wasn't "fair" and how it "could of been". I cry. And cry. And cry. Relationships with friends have changed, and some have outright died. A flower is beautiful, but flowers die after their season, some come back, but some don't. All we can do is appreciate the beauty now, for we don't know what will happen in the future. Concern and worries over my family continue, my aging parents, my siblings' financial securities, even though I am limited in what I can do. I guess the most is to make sure that my relationships with them are right. Try not to feel burdened and sacked. Suck it up sometimes ("be a woman " LOL no one says that). And of course, cry when necessary.

At the same time, the life juggle continues, I still have a full-time job and school. I have rolled out enough applications for a lifetime, thank you very much. Enough anxiety trying to figure out how I will pay off my student loans, finance my graduate education, do what I love...and fit in things to keep my sanity (exercise, nothingness, TRAVEL, meaningful relationships...but not necessarily in that order).

It's a tough job for a 22-year old. And yes, yes, yes, the amazing stories I have heard of people who have gone through sooooo much more than I ever will inspires me and puts life for me into perspective- through being a child soldier, a girl prostitute, you name it. But it's still hard.

Most importantly, then there's the heart, and the person you love. And maybe you have to let that go for now too, and ungrasp it from your hand because you know it's not yours when you have to grasp onto it like that. And it's like, damn. It's like everything seems to ALMOST fit together so perfectly...and also, so not at the same time. All you can do is do your stuff, and have faith that what is destined to happen, will. Most of the time, I think doing the right thing means doing the hard thing, which sucks. Yep, that's right, it sucks.

So...it's 9:48PM and I have to go sleep so I can wake up at 5:30AM for work tomorrow. I pray that God will give me the strength to wake up for the day (cuz sometimes you just don't want to), the patience to live through the day (ppl annoy you), and the wisdom to live through the day (live, live, live, not just survive).

"I know, I know the sky is what makes the oceans blue..."

___________

To read a pretty cool article, click here.

2008-02-06T22:24:00.000-05:00

But I am not there yet
The lighted orb slowly makes it ascent
As the crisp cool air steals away my breath
Click, clack, click! – hurried footsteps to the ground
Almost – but I am not there yet

Sweet melodies play in my ear, breaking silence
As I swim between consciousness and sleep
Da da, da da – heavy palpitations to the beat
On my way – but I am not there yet

Fluorescent ions light up the city skyline
As my hands and feet set into perfect motion
Tap tap, tap tap – nimble fingers to madness
I am here – but I am not there yet

Shadows drift in ad out of spaces all day
As my spirit inside yearns to embrace another
Moaning, groaning – empty hearts born to burst
Do you hear? But I am not there yet

Sometimes divine visions overwhelm my senses
As my eyes open to see the realm of dreams
Reaching, reaching – only courage wills to action
Fathomable – but I am still not there yet…

And as I leave and write the end of another day
What will the world I leave behind me say?
That I played it safe? Or did I live out faith?
I am not there yet, but I am here –
Today.

|Lake Louise, Alberta|plate of strawberries|Times Square, NYC|my window|War Museum, Ottawa|me, Vancouver

Inspirations from a nun from Calcutta...

2008-01-07T23:44:00.000-05:00

Excerpts from The Private Writings of the ‘Saint of Calcutta’: Mother Teresa Come be My Light

"As for me what will I tell you? I have nothing – since I have not got Him whom my heart and soul longs to possess. Aloneness is so great. From within and from without I find no one to turn to. I can speak to no one and even if I do, nothing enters my soul. If there is hell, this must be one. How terrible it is to be without God – no prayer – no faith – no love. The only thing that remains is the conviction that the work is His – that the Sisters and the Brothers are His.” (250)

Who would believe that these are the words from such a ‘spiritual’ person as Mother Teresa? That she, of all people, would have faced the most terrible suffering of all? That of not having the presence of God, whom she loved and longed for above all things in the world. I was shocked at reading Mother Teresa’s letters to her spiritual guides (what this book is about) which explicitly detail her experiences of not being able to feel God’s presence all the while she lived out her convictions and a life that changed so many others. Perhaps more than any other contemporary figure, her experience brought me to understand what it means to imitate Christ – to suffer with him, to die on the cross with him – to a completely different level. The comparisons she finally made to understand that her unique experience echoed that of her savior experienced on the cross when he bore the sins of the world and God turned away from him. That to understand what it means to do unto the least of these, to understand poverty, she would have to experience not only material poverty, but this kind of spiritual poverty for over 55 years! It is amazing, it is incredible and it has my head spinning.

She lived her life following her convictions, even when she couldn’t “feel” God’s presence she held on – and what remarkable results she achieved. Lives changed. Souls awakened. The consciousness of the world stirred. But Mother Teresa never aimed to win the Nobel Peace Prize or the other numerous prestigious awards that she won, no one like that ever does. She was simply living out God’s calling for her life. Living it out, meant doing things one at a time, and it was the day-to-day living that made Mother Teresa stand out and her work successful. It’s what made her life credible.

Bringing it back to home, I have lately been thinking about my sister. I think of my sister and the influence she is having on the teenagers that she is counseling at church. There is a boy who is blind because of a degenerative disease of the brain in her group. He always comes to the events even if he can’t really do them. Every time I hear about him, my heart breaks and I think how great the work that my sister is a part of, is. Sometimes I feel ashamed. How many lives am I changing? Sometimes I feel like I am not even changing my own.

I work downtown Vancouver and during my walks at lunch I see many affluent people. I also come across many homeless people on the street corners begging for money. I get cold being outside for thirty minutes a day dressed in my goose feathers. Sam’s question echo in my mind, “so Anna what are you doing to help the homeless?” There are days where I don’t succeed in pushing these questions from my thoughts, and I ask myself if it is enough that I “study it”. Poverty occurs on my levels and I don’t know if we can judge what is more serious. I think there is poverty in everyone. I know there is poverty in me. I am poor when I still struggle with my own adequacy, moving beyond how I look or my pieces of paper, or who likes me. I have complained about my family and living at home. I dream of my dreams of helping people and building community and good social policies. What is that though…

"Do we know who our poor are? Do we know our neighbour, the poor of our own area? It is so easy for us to talk and talk about the poor of other places. Very often we have the suffering, we have the lonely, we have the people – old, unwanted, feeling miserable – and they are near us and we don’t even know them. We have no time to even smile at them."

Tuberculosis and cancer are not the great diseases. I think a much greater disease is to be unwanted, unloved. The pain that these people suffer is very difficult to understand, to penetrate. I think this is what our people all over the world are going through, in every family, in every home.” (206)

I hope by recognizing the poverty in me, I will spur both my mind and heart into action and live a life in response to the poverty around me. That’s what I want. I pray that I can develop that kind of faith to believe when it is dark, that kind of resiliency to keep walking when the road gets tough, and that kind of courage to live out my convictions.

Here’s to 2008: a year of life and living.

Molly's Christmas scarf | Christmas tree at the National Art Gallery, Ottawa
All covered up at snowy Mount Tremblant | Me

To be a "little Christ"

2007-11-27T12:07:00.000-05:00

[my photo shoot yesterday at work]
I always thought I was a morning person, but waking up at 5:30am on dreary black November days have taken its toil on me. I try to fit in at least a few minutes of bible reading and prayer before going to work, and today I came across this article among my other perusing.
Lately, I haven't been or felt very loving at all. It seems like I am constantly angry, and find fault with everything and everyone in my life - from my family who doesn't seem to get why it is so important to recycle and eat more vegatables (you don't know what it's like to read depressing health studies everyday at work at differnet and news ways human beings have invented to die), to the man coughing in front of me on the germ-filled, air tight skytrain (all I think of during the 1 hour commute is that I can't wait to go and wash my hands), to myself, which is even a more depressing picture - because for every finger I point at someone else, I have three pointing right back at me. The root of it all is that I am not content, because my future dominates my thinking: where will I live? what will I do? who will I marry? And despite my constant attempts to live today and enjoy the present (that's why it's called the present =D), I fail often. I keep wandering back to these thoughts like a loyal dog, whose owner just died but refuse to leave the home, and wastes away. These article is encouraging and challenging to me, I know it's a bit long but if you take the time, I think you will find it worth it. Take a look especially the parts in bold.

A "little Christ" wannabe (think Spice Girls), Anna

____________________

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god_article.php?id=7449

Statement: Rethinking Love
Jim Palmer
The email arrived early one morning from my neighbor friend Judie. Part of getting to know Judie involved sharing our respective spiritual journeys. I shared how discovering God's unconditional love and acceptance in Christ was changing me. We both experienced Jesus as love and peace, and we were encouraged by Jesus identifying these as distinguishing characteristics of His disciples. Judie is someone who holds the highest regard for Jesus Christ and considers Him her role model, yet she never dug into the world of religion, or its accompanying teachings and specifics about the life of Christ. Let's just say her interactions with Christians didn't spark a motivation to engage whatever it was they were focusing on. In one conversation, I mentioned that Jesus' first followers lived out His example and teachings with such devotion they became known as "little Christs."
Judie had been mulling over my "little Christs" comment and came to a disturbing conclusion, which she expressed in her email. Jesus' message, displayed in His life, was love and peace. His first followers accepted that reality and lived it. But pondering the present world and her own life experiences, she was left to wonder, "I kept hearing the song 'Where have all the flowers gone?' in my head, except I was hearing it with the words 'little Christs' … 'Where have all the little Christs gone?'" It was more than a clever rhetorical question. Even though her personal goal in life is being the same love Jesus is, Judie didn't seem to cross paths with many choosing to live this way, though many people call themselves Christians.
She has a point. Many people choose to fill their world with hate, hurt, division, fear and despair even though we are all desperate for love and peace. Statistically, the world is chock full of "Christians"—intelligent Christians, artistic Christians, successful Christians, churchgoing Christians, politically active Christians—but what about "little Christ" Christians? Christians who risk everything for love? What about Christians who love indiscriminately, unconditionally and sacrificially? Apparently, these kinds of Christ followers are MIA. Every now and then, one like Mother Teresa pops up and we practically create a cult around them because they live an existence so decisively beyond our normal way of living.
I worried a bit that perhaps I talked too much about love. What I'm finding myself is that virtually every aspect of knowing God is related to love. Here are several examples of how love altered my understanding of God and my relationship with Him and others.

Before: God is synonymous with religion.Now: God is synonymous with love.

Before: Christianity is a belief system.Now: Christianity is a school of love carried out in apprenticeship to Christ.

Before: God hates sin because it disgusts Him.Now: God's motive for hating sin is love. Sin causes hurt and suffering for me and others.

Before: I primarily experience God through religious rituals and acts of obedience. Now: When I am experiencing love, I am experiencing God.

Before: Christian living is trying harder to be more and do more.Now: Christian living is an overflow of God's love in me.

Before: My source of love is outside myself and I'm dependent on others to supply it. Now: My source of love is within me and while I enjoy the love of others, I'm not dependent on it and can freely love others without the expectation of receiving love in return.

Before: I am created in God's image, which means I have the capacity to make rational choices and exercise my free will. Now: I am created in the image of perfect love, which means love is the core of my identity and I can choose love.

Before: The main thing is getting people to adopt my beliefs about God.Now: Loving people creates desire within them to know God.

Before: Somewhere out there is God's purpose for my life and I must find it.Now: At every moment, God's purpose for me is to be love.

Before: Being "in love" is some temporary euphoric guy-meets-girl experience. Now: Being "in love" is walking in the conscious awareness of and dependence on God's love in me and as me.

Before: Tough love is withholding love from others as a means of disapproval or attempt to bring change. Now: Tough love is loving others without condition, regardless of the result.

Before: The most powerful force on earth is hate.Now: The most powerful force on earth is love.

Being love comes with its own supply of courage and conviction, but people concerned about their reputation need not apply. Love often requires relationships with others, and those "others" might not meet the societal standards of normalcy, which can stir up controversy. During my religion days, I essentially classified people into three groups. "Believers" were the in-group of people on the same page with our main beliefs and practices. "Unbelievers" were those we associated with in some way, hoping to convert them. Normally unbelievers were very similar to me in terms of race, culture and lifestyle. The third group, "really bad people," is actually a subset of "unbelievers," but we pretended they were in a different group altogether. These people's beliefs or behaviors seemed to epitomize everything we were against or didn't believe in. The group was mostly comprised of people with erroneous theology and/or politics, or grossly immoral behavior. It was not appropriate for believers to hang out with "really bad people." This is where the religious version of "tough love" kicked in—withholding love altogether.
Now I see these limitations I placed on love had no basis in the life or teachings of Jesus. Jesus pretty much undid my comfortable theory of love when He said, "love your enemies." This is a reminder that love is the foundation and, as such, a prerequisite for peace. The religious establishment condemned Jesus for hanging out with "sinners." They had limits on their love; Jesus didn't.
For many years, following Jesus' example of love was implausible because my religious logic pitted my belief in God's "holiness" in conflict with God's "love." At times it made God seem schizophrenic. One minute God was too holy to look upon sinners; the next minute He was hobnobbing with the worst of them. The Christian belief system I constructed rested on the notion that God rejects sinners. Yet Jesus offered unconditional love and acceptance to them (us). Religion often implies one must "clean up your act" before receiving anything from God. Jesus, however, had no qualms about leaving open forever the floodgates of God's favor for people regardless of what condition they were in. Once, when questioned about it, Jesus responded, "It's not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick." In fact, I think Jesus never had floodgates to begin with. In Him, love flowed continuously and without even a means of restraint.
There was a time when I considered Jesus' emphasis on things like love and peace as a nice but unrealistic ideal. My religious sensibilities told me to grow up and let go of those silly, childlike notions. Instead, I acquired a militant view of life. I was a Luke Skywalker-type Christian soldier in a war, striving to defeat Darth Vader and the evil empire. You were either with us or against us. One way or another, it was all headed toward Armageddon.
I began to change the day I became conscious of and allowed myself to receive and depend on the love and peace of God within me. At the center of my being, I experienced the fulfillment of Jesus' words, "All things are possible with God." Having grown up in a love-starved home, I set out into adulthood striving and groping for love any way I could get it. I turned to Christianity in hopes of fulfilling my need in God. Instead, I began chasing the proverbial oh-so-close-but-just-beyond-my-grasp greased pig of works-based love and acceptance. After reaching top status in the world of Christendom, I felt more empty and weary inside than when I began.
The magnitude of my ceasing to strive, and instead learning to rest in God's love and peace, is sort of like the Cubs winning the World Series back to back and science figuring out how to produce a fat-free Krispy Kreme donut. There may be no greater miracle than a contented Jim Palmer!
As miracles began happening in my life, I started believing in them. Things I once considered impossible now seemed possible with God. A new kind of logic began forming within me, and I began wondering. If I can experience peace and love, why can't everyone else? If love and peace are true of my inner world, why can't they exist in my outer world? If I'm not conflicted within myself, why must there be conflict in my relationships with others? Anything is possible.
Excerpted from Wide Open Spaces: Beyond Paint-by-Number Christianity (Thomas Nelson) by Jim Palmer. (Used with permission). You can see his upcoming book tour dates at his blog http://www.divinenobodies.com/blog/.

Scrapbooks

2007-10-31T00:31:00.000-05:00

Me and Molly | Molly after grooming at Petcetera

For no reason in particular, I ended up flipping through my scrapbooks from the last few years tonight in my room with Molly. I think I must be (or used to be) one of the ultimate pack rats ever – my friends who have ever helped me pack (and this happens every time of course) can attest to this - and that I own an awful lot of pink things. So naturally, my scrapbooks are also packed, busting with odds and ends like bus tickets, to gifts like cards, which are saved and masterfully crafted into some part of a page with some kind of caption or explanation (you really do forget names and things after a few years!).

As I was rereading, I was thinking that we pack too much into our days, and handle too much information – from RSS feeds to news wires to podcasts – which causes us to not spend enough time processing what all this information means to us. We don’t sort through what is important and what really isn’t. That’s why I scrapbook, to relive and set down those memories. I feel that every time I do take the time to reflect, and to look at some pictures, I am amazed and I think – wow, I said/thought/did/wrote that? Because I had forgotten, forgotten how that thing/person was important, why it/they were so important.

Ever so often, certain pages also make you cringe, and I think that’s the best test to me. It tells whether or not I have fully dealt with an issue. There’s been a couple of realities that I am struggling to face right now, and I hope I will one day be able to look/read the entry in my scrapbook without cringing. Do you think it is normal to doubt, to ask all of those what if/should have questions? Because those are the questions that I ask myself, and that is what makes me cringe, the fear that I have made the wrong decision, and the fear that I will make a wrong one for tomorrow.

A person can’t really live in fear of regretting the past or in fear of the future now can they? Of course not, and this is the internal struggle I battle with these days. I guess I feel like I’m a bit stuck, and still thinking, thinking – while at the same time trying to be proactive and taking small steps and fight being apathetic and giving up. And there are bursts of passion and energy, but also followed by bounds of exhaustion and the want of doing nothing more than hiding and curling up in my bed with a book and my cat.

Perfect fall picture of Como Lake

But God is funny, and he makes the sun shine down on you on days you didn’t think its rays would ever make it through the cloudy skies (especially in Vancouver). Like today. And no matter how heavy your eye lids were when you woke up at 5am to go to work, or how sad you are when you replay in your head that awful conversation you had last night, it’ll be okay. And then you suddenly have this short but awesome conversation with a stranger on the bus (as it often happens), or a previously unknown colleague at work, or a favourite person of yours that you haven’t spoken to for some time. And life goes on. Maybe, just maybe, that’s how life moves, like a meandering river at times. Maybe it’s these seemingly little things that continue to propel us forward when you feel the weight of the world on your bony shoulders, and it feels as if the river has narrowed into a trickle. The rocks are so big and seemingly too immovable, but then you remember also that some other force had placed them there in the first place, so some other force, must be able to move them away again. Maybe God's teaching me to be patient.

Youthful Hubris

2007-10-15T22:49:00.000-05:00

(somewhere off the highway in Saskatchewan)
There’s a funny part in Velvet Elvis where Rob Bell recounts the story of his encounter with his false, super self. A moment of ultimate decision when he decides to shot his “super pastor”, and to stop living like the perfect person everyone else sees, but he knows, isn’t him. Don’t we often stereotype people in this way in our daily lives, and even uplift these “superhumans” as role models, and ideals to be sought after?

I think I’ve killed my superself, but I am still trying to figure out and get used to living life as me – anna – and not as anna the super student, super friend, super volunteer, or super whatever. A preoccupation of mine in the last six months has been on finding out my ‘calling’ in life, my raison d’etre, my specific mission (or at least during this time) to live out this life of love, and what makes me cry is not knowing at all – what that is. To super anna, that doesn’t make sense, because I did all the right things: study hard, gain work experience, participate in the community, and even moving across the country when necessary. It disappoints myself when I can’t fully celebrate with others as I see them live out their passions, get engaged to the one they love, and just live life as it should be lived – fully. Indeed it is the ultimate example of youthful hubris when we demand and we feel as if we ought to know, as if the main character in the story of the world is us, when we are only, not even a week turned, twenty-two.

(4 nuggets for $1 CDN baby in Seattle)

I was having this conversation on Saturday with my friend Monica, and we were discussing this symptom of Generation Y to desire holistic development, where passion goes hand in hand with purpose and action, and reflection (at least for Arts grads) reigns deep into our consciousness. In Western Political thought, Augustine was the first theorist to bring in the introspective, inner consciousness, and it wasn’t until the 18^th and 19^th centuries where characters in romans began to gain complex inner selves. It kills me sometimes. And sometimes I wonder if life was simpler in the time of the nobility, where honour and shame were the virtue and vices, and people were judged by their actions and not thoughts.

It reminds me of a conversation I had with my friend Matt this past summer in Ottawa, in the kitchen of the LLC after a beer and walk (that’s all I can handle). As I was pouring out my sorrows to him, to comfort me, being the pragmatic, realistic person he is, he told me that statistically, Christians experience depression and anxiety at greater rates than other people of no faith or other faiths. Christians, by nature (or at least…they should be? LOL) after all, live knowing the weights of heaven and hell in their hands, on top of living everyday life. I see that. Sometimes, when we think too much perhaps, we get to a point where we feel like throwing our hands up in the air in despair, because everything seems hopeless – the environment, poverty, HIV/AIDS – and yet, not being able to, because we innately know, are given the faith to believe, that there is hope in this strange man named Jesus.

These days come, and today is one of them. And I continue to feel as if the world spins madly on, as I am standing in the middle of a busy, crowded street in New York City. Everyone is rushing around me to their respective destinations, and I am just looking, just wondering, just scared. And I also feel like the little two or three year old girl I was, trying to climb up on the piano bench to sit beside my older sister’s piano teacher, wanting desperately to learn how to play with my impossibly little fingers. I remember the piano teacher laughing and telling me gently that I was still a bit too little, and to wait until I was older to learn – and I feel like that’s what I’ve been told to do by God too. Wait.

(random chess pieces on board the deck on the Golden Princess...like life?)

For the first time, in a long time, I have stopped trying to try new things just for the sake of it, busting my butt to get ahead and noticed, and defining my worth by my success. It’s my hubris and ignorance to ever believe that achieving something – a degree, a boyfriend, an award - would bring me peace and contentment. Like I wrote before, nobody plans to win the Nobel Peace Prize, rather people live their lives and do their thing, and sometimes, rare as it is, they get recognized for it in a big way. And maybe this is my time to just live my life, recognizing that it is okay to do nothing sometimes - it is not laziness or a lack of drive but wisdom, that it is okay to be sad and to cry - it is not a sign of weakness but strength, and that it is okay to not know – for maybe, it is only when we admit our limits that they can be expanded and grow.

Breathe. Exhale. I think I need a good kick in the pants and wake up, read some good books, talk to people with ideas, and stop working for the government after these seven more months. Or, as one of my email buddies said to me (who I should really email and haven’t for a while)..remember to “haul ass, and milk every moment for every last drop of value. PEACE.”

(view of Vancouver harbour, steps from my building | my building, check out the Canadian flag)

The Meaning of Life

2007-08-03T21:53:00.002-05:00

(rocks at the bottom of Hog Back's falls| bike path along Gatineau River)
The first time I seriously came across this old age question “what is the meaning of life” in my conscious memory is in grade 11 at youth parliament in Victoria. As usual during Question Period, the opposition tried to stump the premier and his cabinet by asking all sorts of obscure questions, both in seriousness and in good humour (it was youth parliament after all). Amidst the good fun, low and behold, this question came up. I remember the premier at the time, who also happened to be the older brother of an elementary school friend of mine, paused and then confidently answered, “as my grade four teacher says, the meaning of life is to give life meaning.” It was brilliant answer in my sixteen year old eyes.

Five years later, with a political science degree and government experience under my belt, the question remains and the journeys in between the time have led me to different answers and to meet people with different answers. Despite the differences, a similar theme emerges always – the desire to have meaning and to have fulfillment in our relationships, in our vocation and in our simple everyday living.

Lately, in my own inner struggles with my own vocation, I have been reading the book of Exodus in the Bible. The miraculous deliverance from Egypt, the Ten Commandments, the desert wanderings and the Promise Land, this book has it all! And it seems that the events in Exodus marked Israel as God’s chosen people, where covenants were made and where years hence, in times of praise and trouble the Jewish people would look back at these events and remember who they are, and why they are here in earth.

I don’t know about you but the Ten Commandments had always seemed to me to be like laws, like Hammurabi’s great code. I was thinking about it again and reading again and I realize it’s not quite like that – the way the commandments were written resembles how royal treaties were written at the time, and that makes sense with Israel being chosen by God as his holy nation. It’s not so much a “to not do” list as it is an understanding, and I think throughout the whole thing God is just saying, here guys, here’s a choice between blessings and curses. If you follow me, the One who brought you out of slavery in Egypt, if you really follow me, you’re set and you’ll be blessed. And if you don’t…well…And what was funny when I was reading again was how there is nothing about what we have “to do”, like there is nothing about vocation or things like that. Commandments like honour your parents or not committing murder are not specific things perse, but they are more like attitudes that shape your entire worldview, not specific things you don’t do (though I suppose it could be…LOL). And then I was thinking about the manner in which God gave the Ten Commandments to Moses, how God asked Moses to come up the mountain, up close and personal, and not only so, but asked the Israelites to come close to the mountain, though not touching it. It seems like God wanted his people close to him, as he laid out the foundations of this important treaty that would guide and mark them as his people. And then I noticed the people’s response, how when the Israelites saw the thunder and lightening and heard the trumpet, they got scared and stayed back physically from the mountain even though they were given in the invitation to be up close (20: 18-19). And I thought, maybe it is not just a physical distance but a spiritual one as well, how it is easier to think of a God who is a judge but harder to think of God as a friend, because being a friend entails much more and requires a intimate two way relationship.

Before my journeys in Exodus, I was reading Micah, a little book but with a great great verse that has spawned lately, a great movement (Micah Challenge). When it comes to meaning of life as a Christian and such, it says this “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). The last phrase particularly stood out to me and as I was thinking about that and thinking about the mountain in Exodus, maybe that really is it. A person’s meaning does not come from what s/he does or even who s/he is, but comes from her/his closeness with God. The other variables can easily change, and I still think how funny it is how the people I work at the office with all have at least a master’s degree and yet you would never ever know if you saw them on the street. A bummy looking on the bus can be a phD or homeless, the lines aren’t that black and white. But the closeness, now that is something else. This is a scary realization because it really throws into wack everything I had considered important in my life, typical of someone my age: a meaningful vocation, the special person. At the same time, it comes as a relief perhaps, realizing that my own attempts at finding and constructing meaning, is futile after all.

I received an unexpected strange email this week from UBC Financial Aid and Student Awards. It was an invitation to apply for the Rhodes Scholarship. UBC did a computer scan of all the 4th years who had an average above a certain mark, and when I checked at the student service centre, I realized that I had just reached the number by 0.1 percent. I laughed at that because it is so beyond me. It was even more funny because I was just thinking lately and talking to my coworkers about prestigious awards and such, and how I think people don’t try to win the Nobel Peace Prize. It just happens, like they just live their lives and just do their thing, and sometimes, though most often rarely, they get recognized for it, but they don’t try, they don’t set that as a goal in life. And in the midst of me lately trying to get a job in Vancouver, and preparing for grad school aps and funding...I think these things will just come you know, if it's meant to be. That's so damn hard to accept for a Type A personality.

Closeness to God. Or as my coworkers says, the spiritual connection, the beingness. Moses’ face radiated so much that he had to hid in order to protect the others. I want my life to radiate, I want to be so close that circumstances don’t matter and no person or no job will dictate my beingness and my self worth but the Creator life and all that is good and beautiful.

When we ask, “what is the meaning of life” I think we focus too much on ourselves and the me part. What is the meaning of my life when really, maybe life is not all about you. And so I think when we ask ourselves that question, I think we end up trying to do two things way too much – to prove ourselves and to find ourselves. I had three interviews in the three days this week and as I repeated again and again, trying to sell my qualifications with my transcript and my resume, I was so sick of trying to prove myself worthy, and to affirm myself of who I am. There's nothing wrong with wanting to go to a developing country, or the top school, those are just things and they are neutral. It's the why that matters. Like Snenfer said to me last night, more profoundly than he could have thought, it’s your closeness to God that matters Anna, nothing else.

(steamtrain | stone structure on Victoria Island | being in two places at once! the sign on Portage Bridge marking the border between Quebec and Ontario)

Confessions of a pastor-to-be’s (ex) girlfriend

2007-07-12T21:04:00.001-05:00

I have a few confessions to make, and a few apologies to give. As usual, I think in songs and verses, so you have to keep these songs in mind while you are reading because this is my soundtrack.

Getting into You (Relient K)
I didn’t know what I was getting into when I took your hand almost a year ago. I had never done that before, and leaving the romantics on the doorstep, I never realized what tough work a relationship is, and the choices involved. I never was a clingy person, and though relationships are so central to our essence as human beings (how else do you learn to love?), I have always been independent, and content running alone or reading a book (mind you, I am blessed with the incredible people in my life near and far). I realized this year what a selfish person I am, and how though I say that I want somebody who loves God more than me above all else, I confess that I didn’t at heart – I wanted, like the fairytales, somebody who would give their all for me. Thank God, you didn’t do that. I realize how popular culture has influenced my idea of “love” and what it means being in a relationship, and how far I have come from what it was created to be. Let me try to explain.

In many pivotal times in my life when I have succeeded in achieving something I had sought, be it a prestigious award or scholarship, the affections of a boy, or a physical toy - I have ended up feeling quite empty, all by the time I arrive home at night after I have gained the forementioned object of desire. It’s not that I didn’t love school or volunteering or things like that, because these things in and of themselves are just things, and value neutral. The problem though, is often they were the means in which I strove to achieve other things, such as my parents attention and approval, but most of all, my own self worth and validation that I am important and deserved to be loved and cherished (isn’t that all our ends?) as a human being. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with wanting to achieve great things, but the question is why – why do you want to get married, help people, make money? These things are not bad, but how often do we stop, look at ourselves in the mirror, and ask ourselves why we do what we do everyday. Often when I need some Anna time, I would go, eyes blood shot and all, and look at myself in the mirror sans makeup. And it doesn’t take very close examination to see the pride, the envy, the selfishness that lies beneath the skin, and I realize that I am not a very pretty person after all, but full of blemishes and dark corners.

My ideal of a relationship of “life” isn’t very original. It’s the North American Dream all over again, but with church on Sundays and bible studies during a weekend and charity events on the weekends maybe. Sure I’ll make sure my job helps the forgotten in society to help themselves, compost, be vegetarian, bike instead of drive to work, volunteer in Africa or the inner city with my expertise and the other good things one should do as a responsible global citizen. Again, nothing is wrong with any of these things (and it sure damn is hard to be vegetarian when you’re Chinese! Chinese people EAT every part of the animal!), but…why? Because doing something just for my conscience, my comforts, my dreams is not good enough. I’m here, I am finally here, at the brink of university graduation, with pieces of paper (transcript and resume) that opens doors to that North American Dream, and I ask myself..what is that to me? Absolutely nothing.

I am sorry. I am sorry I continued to flirt with my own selfish ambitions when I said I would take up your call, and live not for myself but yet for God. I am sorry that I had to hurt you in the process of cleaning and gutting myself. Love isn’t what I thought it was, and I am glad. It’s a lot more than I have within me, and I think that’s a good place to start again.

World on Fire (Sarah McLachlan)
I haven’t seen many videos that have made me cry as this one did from the first time I saw it. It is inevitable that every twentysomething will go through the process of asking themselves, “what is my calling? What is my purpose on earth?” It doesn’t matter if you subscribe to a god or yourself, it’s like this innate yet uniqueness to human beings, the desire and the compelling urgency to have to subscribe meaning to our lives. Animals don’t do it, they do what they do and then they die. But that’s not enough for us, we don’t just ask the how, but we ask the why, and as Don Millar says correctly, it’s the why questions that matter, because the why questions dictate the how. When you know your why, you know where to live, with whom to live and what to do.

So how do you know your why? I think it is pretty simple. What makes you cry, I don’t mean the sniffles, but the deep soul aching cry – what makes you cry? Is it HIV/AIDS, the apathy of our country or the brokenness in your family? What fills you with joy? Is it making people laugh or hoping to inspire others with your words? What is the question, the what ifs, and what makes you angry and make you swear that you’ll never do that or I don’t want to do that! that you lie in bed thinking of before you shut your eyes. What do you see in the sunset and the morning star? What lies between what makes you cry and what gives you joy? How would that look on a daily basis? The answers are there, they’ve always been here because they are abscribed onto our hearts but we don’t always take the time to hear them, or the have the guts to listen to them.

To avoid being a hypocrite of writing things and never applying them to my own life and so I don’t forget…here’s my list:

Things that make me cry:
-being successful and empty, like a Barbie doll, lifeless

-people believing and treated as if they are not worth it because of the way we structure the world (socio-econ-politically) – from the homeless beggar on our city streets to the girl-prostitute a world away

-women being beaten (emotion-spirit-mental-physically) and women believing they have to prove themselves – from the abused little girl in Thailand to the corporate CEO killing herself to be someone

Things that fill me with joy:
-reading and writing (whatever)

-seeing families together (however you want to define family, to me, a group of broken people who nonetheless chooses everyday to live together, not just to cohabit a house)

-helping people help believe in themselves (physical-spiritual-mental-emotionally) and equipping them with all I am and all I have

-experiencing beauty whether in the colours of the sunset or the eyes of my grandmother or the smile of a stranger

Final Thoughts
I believe, because I have to and because I believe it is true (haha), that there has be something in this world that can take the things that make me cry and the things that give me joy, and bring them together in this life where I will be alive everyday, not merely living. I think that’s the way God made each of us. He doesn’t want us to live numb “normal” lives with the 9-5 (not that there’s anything wrong perse with a 9-5 job, I have one right now). But I think what’s important to remember and what I have oft forgotten this year is that the job, and the whatever it is that we end up “doing” are just tools that enable us to be who we are, and to express ourselves and ultimately show and reflect love from the God that is love from above. Nothing else, not a basis for identity. I sometimes envy the people that are satisfied and I ask, why can’t I be like that? But there’s a world on fire outside and inside. But I am so sorry you had to be hurt in the process.

The Berkeleys, the international internships, the degrees and the ring on the finger – they don’t matter anymore. I’m sorry they ever did God. That’s not the point is it? Will you take me as I am, imperfect and broken? Will someone to choose to path this life with me? Now that’s a high calling…hahaha.

Why did I decide to entitle this blog this way (I wonder what Augustine would have thought about this title…I’m sure it is not what he had in mind when he wrote Confessions…)? The confessions of a pastor-to-be’s (ex) girlfriend. I think everyone goes through similar thoughts, but maybe dating/having dated a pastor-to-be (or any care giving professional) brings them all out under a microscopic light that sheers through the soul and makes those marks clearer than usual. At least it did for me.

So what now? Be normal? What's normal? Damn it, it is so easy to be caught up in things and forget what is important, forget the world that exists around ourselves - planes crash, worlds collide and people die everyday while I am still alive. If my life is all I have, than it is what I will give.

I think I'm starting to get what it means.

I’m going to love you with my life…

To do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God – Micah 6:8
To relentlessly pursue who God made you to be – Rob Bell
To live out love in the world – Tony Campolo

(clockwise from left) Chinese embassy in Ottawa | Fireworks behind Parliament Hill on July 1 | The children's display at the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. | The one and only IMF in Washington, D.C.

Stormy Skies

2007-06-23T16:40:00.000-05:00

Locke writes that God gave the earth to mankind in common, and of all the pieces of Mother Nature that humanity shares, nothing do we share in my opinion, more equally than the sky. That is why we are concerned about global warming, airborne diseases, and chemical pollutants right? Because we realize that, the sky above containing the air we breathe is something shared in common, knowing no political boundaries. That is why I love the sky; it brings equality unparallel to man. The same rain falls and comforts both the rich and the poor, and the rays that wake up a sleepy village in Africa powers the latest technology in the Western world.
I am a sky watcher. And I like her (it has to be a her, with the constant weather changes in Ottawa) because I think she has spunk. On Thursday, I went for walk after work to Champlain Point, one of the special places of Aaron and me. The air was hot and humid, and dark ominous clouds loomed, and everywhere at 5pm downtown Ottawa, ladies and gents hoped to hurry home before the storm set in. It was a strange feeling, being one of them yet also not really one of them. As a twentysomething, I had nowhere I had to go, no family obligations waiting, no after work meetings, and no one waiting for my arrival. As I walked to the point, taking a long route that circled parliament hill and then slowly ascended to the stairs that led to the small apex marked by the statute of Samuel Du Champlain, I walked happily against the traffic.
I would say this is one of the best lookout points in Ottawa, and on nice days I am certain it becomes a popular make out spot. To the left you see parliament hill including the actual hill in all its grandeur, to the right you see promenade Sussex and right in front, the bridge that brings you across to Gatineau. It is one of those spots where you feel like you are at the top of the world, with the cliffs and the water bowing down below you. By the time I got there, the sky started to let out teasing raindrops, the kind where if you had an umbrella you did not know if it is worth the hassle to pull it out to use. Normally, even though I am a Vancouverite, I hate rain. However, the soothing raindrops resonated within me this night.

Soon, it started to rain harder. What was strange though was how the exact spot I was at seemed to divide the rain clouds and the sunshine; I felt like I was witnessing a painting in action. I felt like I was seeing a physical representation of what the battle of good and evil must look like – to my left the darkness loomed and looked as if it stretched out its fat arms towards the light. To my right, out of the blues skies rays shot out like Zeus’ thunderbolts, hurling towards the enemy. It was magnificent and I have never seen such a display in the skies so prominently before in my life.
I sat there for some time and watched until eventually, the dark clouds blew away and sunshine once again followed me home, dry. Being a reflective and proud human being, I could not help but relate the skies to my own life, and thought how often that battle between ‘good and evil’ rages in my heart. The humidity in Ottawa is quite unbearable for me. Vancouver has the ocean breeze to offset the humidity so you never really feel it. Here, the air is so hot that you sweat from simply standing outside, and you cry out that it would just thundershower already, and release the tension in the air.
There is always a fight for big stuff isn’t there? For some decision, you have to make, and sometimes it is like that, it takes the storm to release the tension in the air. Life cycles, with periods of storms and sunshine, and times where you are just in the middle, like where I was standing alone at Champlain Point. Sometimes, it takes awhile before something breaks, and you wish it would just be over and you would just win already. God, why don’t you just let me win already? I have been trying so hard.

I feel like a big storm has just passed in my life, with the climax when Aaron and I decided to let each other go and better pursue what God has in store for the both of us alone. I cannot deny the thousands pounds, which seemed to lift off my chest when we shot Jimmy, our proverbial elephant (you know the saying “there’s an elephant in the room”?). Have you ever stood outside after a big storm? It is another strange feeling, because on the one hand you are so glad it is over, but on the other hand, you realize that you have to face the brokenness left behind. Storms often leave behind trails of debris, and I feel like there are many pieces to pick up now on the way of ‘finding me’.

(my stitches/check out the license plate!/Mel and I in Toronto)

2007-06-02T21:33:00.000-05:00

Dear Ottawa,
You haven’t changed much since last year, with the humidity accompanying the summer flowers. Politicians and dignitaries still walk the grand halls of power, museums and relics of the past continue to wait for visits from curious eyes, and people keep living and dying, making fortunes on your city streets. But I am different, so please let me tell you what lessons I have learned while you were away.

(In)certainity?
The English language is a flawed, funny language with as many exceptions as there are rules. For example, why are some words negated with “un” while others with “in” such as uncertainty and certainty versus indirect and direct? Maybe because “incertainty” would mean that you are “in certainty”?

Uncertainty is beautiful thing; it forces us to accept and to live each day not knowing, seeing only the bit of light that God shines to guide and light our paths - not a step more, but also not a step less in the direction of His choosing. Uncertainty is a beautiful thing, but not when you try to force her to be or to do something for which she is not ready. There are times this year, in the midst of the numerous changes with grad school applications and future thinking, where I did just that, grasp at what I could not yet know. In these moments, I truly felt like a blind person without a guide, desperately groping for something – anything – to end up with nothing but perpetuate further desperation and heavier doses of self-afflicted pain. Today, as I sit with nothing more than a plane e-ticket back to Vancouver September 1, I choose to learn the lesson, and let uncertainty pursue its course.

SELfiSh – selfLESS
Did you ever notice how the word ‘less’ is in both the words selfish and its antonym, selfless – the difference lies in the placement of the letters L-E-S-S. Whereas “less” is grouped together nicely as the antecedent in selfless, as if an act of proclamation to the world at its meaning, “less” is harder to find in selfish, because the focus is on “self.” The meaning of the words tells a similar story don’t they? Selfish people talk a lot about themselves, and make their troubles and joys loud and clear to all who can hear, while selfless people are often not heard at all, and are given less due than they deserve.

It is sickening how many conversations have ended with my own self condemnation: I am selfish. It is even more sickening considering how these conversations should not keep reoccurring, because their reoccurrence only loudly attests to the failures to resolve the ugliness and the pain I hide behind such phrases and admissions. The truth is, while a part deep deep inside me longs to live the life, I mean, really live, unfettered by all earthly and material worries (so that includes all possible degrees, gross income, and loving relationships I would incur in this life) - another part wouldn’t mind if the plans in my head worked out, because I think my plans are pretty good. Right?

I take careful notice of my appearance for work, particularly when I worked in parliament last year. It was quite fun at first, dressing up, but it became poisonous when I felt naked without my mask on, as if my mask was the ultimate source of my confidence and value as a human being. In contrast, some of the best times, the best conversations I have had with others were when I was dirty and disshelved, in jeans and t-shirt, in tears and rain, most often a mix of it all. I am not saying people who dress up are fake or ugly, but do you notice how the people with that most beautiful glow, the sparkle in the eye that glittery eye shadow fails to capture, aren’t on magazine covers? Most likely, not wearing make-up? Less is more. Isn’t that the first rule of make-up, and doesn’t that apply in life as well? Less layers, no layers, is more.

Love - EVOLution – rEVOLution
My name is a palindrome, so since I was a kid I would automatically spell words backwards in my mind to see if it one, if it is another palindrome such as racecar, or two, if it spells out anything interesting such as noside. Love backwards spells evol, which leads to the verb evolve, and taken further to nouns, evolution or revolution if we dare. Love evolves doesn’t it? From family love to first loves, from reciprocal love to unconditional love, our understanding of love evolves as the people and the very circumstances in our lives shape and test us. With each moment, our understanding grows or shrinks. Maybe sometimes it is okay to shrink (despite our Enlightenment teaching of linear progress), and like the motions of our muscles when we work out, it has to be broken first in order to build up again stronger. I also mentioned revolution, but I am thinking of it from the origin of the word, revolution as an astronomical term for an object going around another object in a complete circular path, like the earth around the sun. Not the banners and protest rally image. But if you think about it, the two usages of the word are really the same. Do you notice how many revolutions, even if they would never admit, ultimately cry out for the restoration of past ideals and the fulfillment of broken promises? We want to get back at something that has been lost, corrupted, and tainted by a present world order, a particular regime, or a person, so it is like coming back full circle. Sometimes love is a revolution.

This is my first serious relationship, and the first time I have committed to love a person that way for so long (a year Tuesday). We are well past the roses and chocolates, and at times it feels like all we’ve got is heart ammunition. I reread some journal entries from this time last year, and a part of me wishes we were back where we were at a year ago. But Ottawa is different today, because I am different. Do you know that the path traveled by the earth around the sun, our revolutions (that marks our calendar years) are not exactly the same every time? It would be if the only two objects in space were the sun and the earth – but we are not the only objects in the universe (that would be pretty boring don’t you think?). And it’s like that, if we were the only two people on earth, than maybe things would be the same always. But it isn’t like that, just as the gravity of other planets, the other shining stars and distant galaxies push and pull on the earth during its revolutions around the sun, vying for attention, so do other people and circumstances in life, push and pull on our relationship. Yet the beautiful, though simple thing about revolutions is that they continue to happen, for there is a greater force between the sun and the earth than those who try to pull it apart. I hope, nay, I pray, that there is a greater force here too.

Ottawa, I don’t know what will happen in these three months and I will stop counting the days. I am going to live. Yesterday is past, tomorrow is yet to come, all we have is today, that’s why it is called the present.

This I Pledge To Do

2007-05-30T20:24:00.000-05:00

Ban Ki-moon

an encouraging read...

My Celebrity Look alikes

2007-05-25T20:26:00.001-05:00