puffs of cotton

Sunrise at Machu Picchu (a taste of heaven) was one of my favorite moments of feeling as if I could just reach out and touch the sky. The drive up to Haleakalā Crater and Summit had us on the edge of the mountain side with billowy clouds wafting by us. Tour operators offer bicycle trips up and down the national park. With  such narrow and windy roads, it required vigilance in avoiding the cyclists. At the summit, one can view the Haleakalā Observatory, which is one of the best locations for ground telescopes given the clarity, dryness and stillness in the air and limited light pollution. Although closed to the public, it is operated by the United States Air Force and University of Hawaii.

During the hike on the Sliding Sands Trail down to the crater, the fluffy cumulous clouds crept into the crater, inching towards the trail. On the way back, we were caught up in the misty wisps as we walked through remnants of one. At over 10,000 feet above sea level, as the heat source was setting, the temperature dropped significantly, yet it did not deter the crowds that congregated near the summit to get a glimpse of sunset on the island.

In the silence of the crowd, I found myself catching my breath as the hues of orange, peach and yellow imbued the sky. As the sun disappeared from the horizon and the crowd was dissipating, a cool breeze made the hair on my skin prickle, reminding me that I have angels watching over me.

standing taller

While I usually provide a link to any blog post that features any particular person as a courtesy, I don't always do it, depending on the circumstances. One of my cousins had posted that her son sent her flowers, even though she had communicated in the past that she had told her boys not to waste money on flowers for her, so I had provided the link to full circle (part 3) on her post given the similar theme.

I had not provided my mother the link as I am not sure she is aware of my blog but also hesitated because I did not want her to misinterpret it as stirring up the past. I was surprised when I woke up the next morning to the following message:

"After I read your story on full circle, I cried a lot. I didn't mean to be ugly to you like you thought when you were young. When I said you didn't look pretty when you was a baby and you look pretty when you grow up that I mean I'm proud of that because who care about baby long you look pretty when you grow up that is important but you already mad so I can't explain more what I want to said so I didn't have a chance to said more.

I alway love you very much but some reason you always mad at me so I didn't have a change to show that. Now I'm so happy find out you understand me more. I'm sorry for anything I did make you said [sic] and thought you was adopt baby for a long time like that.

I'm happy we understand each other now. You taught me a lot so now I didn't keep everything for my self. I stand up. [sic]" 

Similar to truth in the truth shall set you free, apologies have no expiration date. While I may have forgiven her a long time ago for my own well being, it still was cathartic to read those words of apology, similar to the colleague in to err is human, to forgive, divine.

As in absolution, I have always believed that it is never too late to let someone know how you feel. More importantly, I am proud of my mother, like my cousin in stone skipping (part 8), that she has found her voice and choosing to use it to stand up for herself.

* * * * *

On a related but unrelated note and as I noted in the truth shall set you free, I recently found an email from my ex from moments that matter (part 4). It reminded me why he was such an easy soul to love, and as was my mother's message today, his message was unexpected as it had been months after I had repatriated.

"This is long overdue, but I have been meaning to write to you to send an apology.

During your last couple of days in Vietnam I had not been a very good companion. After you had left, I had felt some guilt for some time about this but had not been able to digest what was going on with myself at the time. Over the past couple of months I have been able to gain some further insight and learn a bit more about what was going on with myself. 

One of the results of my own recovery efforts has been a lack of familiarity with intimacy. During your last couple of days in Saigon, this was ever apparent. As much as I wanted to enjoy the time with you, I was not sure of how to do this and was, honestly, a bit afraid to extend myself knowing that you were leaving. I was not entirely sure of what we had or where it was going and this was affecting my involvement. I should have been more open and honest with you about this and apologize for not doing so. I do feel that I left you a bit confused as you were leaving and was not a very pleasant person to be around as you were extending yourself.

You have been great support to me, and I have enjoyed all the time that we spent with each other even if it did not seem that way. I do hope that we have the opportunity to catch up again soon as well here in the US. I am not sure where you stand, but I am here as a friend if you need anything."  

The "lack of familiarity with intimacy" was ironic coming from the man who taught me to embrace intimacy. These gestures remind me that I have been blessed to find very kind, courageous and gracious men in my life, as well as a mother who has learned to embrace her femininity of vulnerability and masculinity of standing up for her "self".

unanswered prayers

As I was sunbathing in the nude today, it occurred to me that either my body is growing on me or I'm growing into it. As a child, I was the 'ugly' daughter - my mother told me that I was fat and ugly. We have gotten way past any mental issues this caused and have reconciled it all. Regardless, I have always liked walking around in the buff. Given my propensity for natural light, this meant au natural for all to see, if they had wanted to. Clothing is usually one of the last items I put on when getting ready.

We, especially women, all have body parts that we can criticize. In my early 20s, it seemed as if this list couldn't get any bigger. At some point in my life, my complaints included:

• birthmark on my hand
• full lips
• big forehead
• wavy hair
• short
• small breasts
• big nipples
• flat butt
• big butt
• nails that were tough to bite
• crooked teeth
• overbite
• big nose

However, life experiences have taught me otherwise:

• The birthmark, which is now fading, taught me my right from my left.
• Who doesn't want Angelina Jolie lips? They are kissable after all.
• Either my head got bigger or my forehead got smaller - it doesn't quite seem so gargantuan.
• Wavy hair gives me the option to easily go straight or curly and gives body as hair thins with age.
• While I still wouldn't mind being a few inches taller, being petite has its advantages at times - flexibility with various positions plus I have more options with men, as most, if not all, are taller. Besides, I've been with men who are 6'3" and 6'5" so it hasn't really limited me from tall, dark and handsome. 😏
• At least I don't have to deal with back pains or droopiness as I age...plus while I have thought about enhancements, I wouldn't trade the sensitivity of these buggers any day.
• The stretch marks remind me of the 'grass is greener' syndrome of wanting a big vs. small bottom, which was all dependent on societal popularity at different points in time. It's all about proportions any way.
• I quickly gave up nail biting once I realized the effort it took. Nowadays, people insist that I have fake nails and are amazed that I would continue to cut them. Trust me, they grow back...way too fast.
• My jaw has shifted or something but my smile just adds to the youthful glow, crooked teeth and all.
• My nose allows me to get in enough air that I don't have a habit of snoring. The nostrils don't seem to be as big anymore, similar to the forehead. But in the last few years, I've been asked whether I have gotten a nose job, including from someone this past weekend, who commented that I have a pretty nose. Just shows you that beauty is in the eye of the beholder...and the part of the world you are in.

A friend recently remarked to me: I do find it interesting that you quickly characterize "a bit uneven, a little rough around the edges, slightly unrefined, and mysteriously unpredictable" as flattery. His initial comments were in relation to my personality but like my looks, I actually think uniqueness is flattery and never found 'the girl next door' as anything to hoot and holler about - wouldn't that make one less memorable?

So God, Mother Nature or whatever other higher power is out there had a better plan than I gave her credit for. She knew that like good wine, it gets better as it ages. I like when I'm tanned and at my current weight (which is the same weight as my 'freshman 15' and the highest I've ever been - things just shifted). While individually, my complaints had merit, in combination, the sum turned out to be better than its parts. My 30s taught me to be comfortable in my own skin - perhaps a bit too much. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and the only beholder that should matter is the individual looking in the mirror.

got milk?

There are obvious things that make me homesick:

• images of my nieces and nephews on skype
• my niece telling me to hurry up and come home for Christmas
• messages from friends telling me stories of their adventures (and missing their friend/wingwoman)
• messages of encouragement and enjoyment from my stupid blog posts
• messages of concern from family and friends when they haven't seen me on skype, instant message, social media, or blogging in awhile

However, there are also things that on a daily basis, one takes for granted until it is gone. Bangkok is somewhere in between the developed and third world countries. It's got all the amenities of Western lifestyle at emerging market prices. Surprisingly, these are the things that Bangkok made me realized that I miss:

• speed and fast cars - the expressways and wider streets as well as less motorbikes/scooters enable cars to go faster than the 20-30 mph in Vietnam.
• lines/queues - people actually respected this concept rather than squeezing into every nook and cranny that they could in order to get in front of you.
• mass transit - getting a taxi to get around town gets old, and sometimes I just want to be an anonymous person in a crowded car to people watch without having to sit in traffic.
• sweet fruit - there are mangos and all sorts of tropical fruit in this region; however, Vietnamese tend to eat the more sour/bland type fruits, dipping them into chili/salt or chili/fish sauce concoctions rather than eat the riper/sweeter version of such fruit.
• chains - we have KFC, Subway and Dominos, but the regulations, market protection and/or access to supplies, including distribution channel and infrastructure, have increased the entry costs for businesses like McDonald's and Starbucks. Gosh, I sure miss the Mickey D's french fries and sundaes.
• quietness - if you don't pay close attention to the words, the intonation of Thai is very similar to Vietnamese. Yet, it seems as if Vietnamese have a tendency to talk over their counterparts, resulting in everyone raising their voices trying to outdo each other. This makes for a very loud elevator ride. Thai people seemed to have a gentleness about them from their helpfulness in the outdoor markets to their tone of speech.
• array of entertainment - HCMC has a number of bars, restaurants and clubs that can keep a girl's schedule pretty busy; however, there are times where I miss having a nice lounge or places for pure entertainment such as Broadway shows, musical/variety shows and the typical red light district that is for both genders. I haven't found the Patpong of Vietnam yet.

A friend asked me this week if there are things that I miss to put in a care package. I have a wicked sweet tooth so like to bake rather than cook. I insisted on finding a place with an oven, which is not common here. I always hated the taste of milk. Growing up, mom always made us drink a glass of milk every day before going to school, claiming that milk (despite the short genes that I inherited from both parents) would make us grow. We tried everything from chocolate milk to strawberry powder to make me tolerate the taste. Yet, I still would try to find ways to not have to drink it, including pouring the glass of milk that my mother had set out before she went to work down the drain, of course until my brother ratted me out.

So it was a bit ironic that the first thing that came to my mind of what I miss when my friend asked the question was fresh milk. The pasteurized milk with shelf life of multiple months just doesn't taste the same with cereal. My baking recipes also would need to be adjusted - all of a sudden it makes sense why my friend Rae had a tough time with making cupcakes, cookies, etc. while living in France where they also had the shelf milk. I'm going to have to find guinea pigs for eating my creations while I experiment with the local ingredients in my American recipes.

Factoid: Lack of access to lactose products like dairy products has resulted in more than 95% of those in Asian countries genetically being lactose intolerant. Luckily, I can still enjoy my ice cream cravings; however, there are times where I wish my mother would accept her lactose intolerance and not subject us to the repercussions. 😜

a good stretch

In the US, I remember seeing a number of spas offering Thai massages, but never had one. I had incorrectly assumed it was another type of deep tissue based on pressure points or something similar. So I was excited when my friend booked a 2-hour Thai massage after a long day out and about - a good ol' hard deep tissue, relaxing massage where I can fall into a deep sleep.

The place was a huge establishment with great services and very organized. I was confused when they brought my friends (a couple) and me into a room with three mattresses on the ground and no curtains or towel to crawl under. I was more befuddled when they brought in big Thai pants and shirts to change into as I'm used to being in the buff for my massages. Flashbacks to all those times in school when you had boys face one way and girls face another - we quickly changed.

A Thai massage is one where the massage therapist uses his/her body to stretch yours into various yoga type positions. Too bad I didn't know about these massages during my developmental years as it may have helped me be taller similar to Bobby Brady stretching on the swing set. I did not get my deep sleep but I left with my back cracked.

me love you long time (part 1)

The managing director at my firm came out of retirement to do a tour of duty in Vietnam. He's a 6' 4" (1.93 meters) Scot. Everywhere we go together, we usually get second and even third glances. Initially, I didn't notice the attention we were drawing, until he brought it up. I don't get such glances if I am with someone with an Asian background (e.g., Korean, Chinese, Vietnamese, etc.), but in these parts where there are a number of stories about married or single expats finding local women and/or local women hoping to 'catch' a foreigner to bring them to another country, the combination of yellow skinned woman and white skinned man automatically calls for such assumption.

One can argue that the additional glances are due to the significant height differences with his tall build against my diminutive stature. Until...while we went on a walkabout for him to show me a bit of the city to acclimate me to the locales of the necessities (e.g., post office, convenience store, vendors with American DVD's, etc.), a female vendor asked him in English, 'you buy?' He responded with 'too small'. The object was a pair of boxer shorts. As he was walking away, she yelled to me in Vietnamese, 'miss, you should buy for him. I have 3x'. I'm not sure what made me laugh more - the fact that she assumed I was his lady love or that she assumed he wore size 3x.

For the record, this is not a case of 'yellow fever' although I have been accused of being the initial cause of an addiction to 'yellow fever' (and for some reason, which can be analyzed another day, I was offended by the accusation).