I'm An Illegal Alien

My Passport is gone! It's Missing!!!

I've retraced every step I've taken in Jordan in the last five days. It's gone!

To make make matters worse, I was supposed to renew my VISA 5 days ago. I went in to do this and then they sent me to get unexpected blood work done. So somehow in the span of three days... It disappeared. Vanished.

Lost. Without a Trace. I'm wondering where the Law and Order is, I've already been to the COPS. Criminal Minds might be at work out there with my Alias. The passport wasn't in my House, it wasn't at The Office, and I've searched all over The Community. I've worked the Numb3rs, and it just doesn't add up. I haven't had many Happy Days, with too many Late Nights - there's been no Glee, even with my Friends.

Send out the Heroes, my very own A-team, someone's gotta pay, I need some Avengers. Please if any of you have been Touched By An Angel, let me know and get out solve these X-Files. I would even settle if you are a Dark Angel or one of Charlie's Angels. From the Desperate Housewives, to the American Dad's, Journeyman, or any Fugitive from the law, answer this call, your very own Mission Impossible, and I know America's Got Talent. Start the Sunday Countdown, I won't stop, I'll be sleepless with Insomnia until the day I shout "Eureka, So You Think You Can Dance?"

And just for the record straight, (one last one I promise) I didn't lose it Accidently on Purpose. No, it just went missing.

So this makes me an illegal alien in Jordan. I went to the US Embassy today, but you what... they close at 12:10 today... because its the end of the month (even though its the 29th, and a Thursday). They don't open again until Sunday.

But that was the end of this day, no it got worse.

I went over for a piece of Chocolate cake... I needed something. When I left the restaurant, it started raining... actually pouring on me. I was soaking wet. I jumped a taxi, but because of the strong rains and some Stock Rally Car thing going on in Abdoun, most of the roads were blocked off.

I get the bank on foot, I have 1 dollar left in my wallet. I go inside to check my statements, but what do you know, I cannot do that because my statements are in Hong Kong... and their systems are not wired together in Jordan. So I walk downstairs to pull out money.

The receipt pops out, but I'm waiting for my card, and waiting and waiting. The problem, it had popped out, but because of a plastic guard over it, that covered the card, I didn't know I could pull it out. So, now I'm in trouble because the bank machine gobbles up my card AND I still don't have any money.

I walk back upstairs. "Sorry, we cannot take out the card until.... Sunday." NOOOOOOOOOO!

Can you just give me money from my account then? No, I'm sorry, we cannot do that either. This is a bank isn't it? Don't you have money?

Finally, the manager calls up and gets approval... and pulls the card out. I ask if I can just try to get the money again... he said, "Don't do that, I think its broken." You need to go over to the international branch. "But hurry up, they close in 45 minutes. "

Remember that Stock Car Rally? Well all the roads were well blocked off for a few blocks. I walk and walk. And I cannot find a taxi. 20 minutes left. Finally I find a taxi. We race off to the HSBC bank. I get their within 10 minutes......

Finally I got money... but I do have to check in a few days my online statements... to see if they took charged me an extra $200 dollars. Life has been frustrating to me. And I still don't have my passport. But Hahmdellah (?sp), Praise be to God... He hasn't abandoned me yet!!!! (Even though it seems so chaotic and complex).

Ma Salam,

Greg

All in One Day

9.13.09.01

I have just been woken up AGAIN by the loudspeaker (for the call to prayer) ... its 5AM!!!

Its a new sound speaker, it sound likes its coming from outside my window.

9.13.09.02

5:20, I wonder if this is a sanctioned speaker... I have begun plotting ways to destroy this sound system. Can we not have the first call to prayer at a more reasonable hour, lets say 10:00 AM?

9.13.09.03

With the morning distractions, I have been unable to get much additional sleep

9.13.09.04

Its now day four in the same socks, all of my other socks are being washed at a friends house (thankfully I have clean undergarments)

9.13.09.05

We are driving towards Macoure -- where John the Baptist was beheaded, I just passed the plains where King David and his men fought against the Moabites.

9.13.09.06

Just passed Kings Academy, school where King Abdullah founded. If I enjoy teaching here, I will apply to teach there.

9.13.09.07

We are now driving down the The King's Highway the oldest road in the world .

9.13.09.08

Just saw where John the Baptist was imprisoned by King Herod, and later was executed. Only the ruins still remain.

9.13.09.09

We have just stopped to eat an authentic meal, there is a large tour bus of loud Americans near by. I'm very conscious of my own identity right now.

Americans are loud and annoying, and either overly friendly, or overly rude. As a nationality we know very little of humility, (except for the simple hard working folks, little of this breed still remain), or the culturally aware traveler - a stark contrast to the eye agape tourist, who travels to a new area for a week and automatically assumes they know everything about that location.

Nothing is clearer than the ignorant American who drinks alcohol in a culture in which this act was forbidden at one point and is still frowned upon.

9.13.09.10

Just the oldest map in the world, it was a Mosaic located on the floor of a church. It was in another church, but it was destroyed, when the roof fell down it perfectly preserved much of the ruins.

9.13.09.11

Finally onto Mt. Nebo... the promise land is in sight. However, I wont have a chance to visit this location until my passport is near to expiring (for reasons I cannot explain here)... or I might never be able to see it in person though.

Still it was quite amazing to stand in the very place where Moses stood.

9.13.09.12

Parts of Moses are still evident... the place where he struck the rock to create a stream, is STILL HERE! Yes, you could see the green of bushes and trees against the desert backdrop.

9.13.09.13

Final entry: I just swam in the Dead Sea again... this time I put the mud on my fact, I really did look like the swamp monster this time!

Salam!

A Few Frustrations

A Few Frustrations:

This next post will mainly tell of some of my initial frustrations living in Jordan. From panic attacks, to irate taxi drivers, diving into a new culture is not met without difficulties.

Happy Trails to You (until I’m safe again)

My first adventure to a Wadi was enthralling and ever-bit fascinating. Where else can you hike through a river, with steep rock cliffs on both sides? When faced with a second opportunity to go Wadi hiking (with the spoken guarantee that it would be easier than wading through a river), I jumped at it.

The day started off well, we climbed up several hills, found the trickling stream, and I had ample time to take pictures: from an obstinate crab, to a curious frog... all seemed to be going well. This of course all changed when I was informed of the plans to climb up one of the steep cliff walls. Being afraid of heights, I mumbled my misgivings about this new turn in the adventure (there was some talk of this before, but I thought that it had been laid to rest when we started to run out of time).

I was told not to worry, and that we were going to meet up with a road at the top of the cliff walls and the trek down through the canyon would be easier than the ascent.

We began deliberately climbing, inching our way ever-skyward. At the crest of each hill, was more rock to be conquered. After 15 minutes, I realized that we were still going up. With each rock I passed, I became more alarmed. Suddenly, I bolted up the cliffs, nearly running on all fours up the ascent. I’m actually a decent climber, and I can certainly hoist my own weight, I just don’t like heights... so in doing this I was trying to reach the top as quickly as I could.

One Person’s Road, Another’s Goat Trail

With each scoop of gravel and rocks that I scooped past my hands, the more alarmed I became. I was full on my way to a full-blown panic attack (my first one, so this was new territory for me: literally and figuratively speaking). I had gone on so far ahead, it took about 20 minutes for the rest of the group to catch up. By the time they got up to me, I was gripping ahold of a rock, with my body dangling on the 45 degree slope (that might not seem very steep, but there were no solid rocks at this point and I was wearing running shoes with almost zero traction).

Once Dan got up to me, I was stuck in this massive panic attack. Ironically, the rock that I was gripping onto so pervasively, came loose the moment Dan arrived. (I realized this then, but was still panicking that I didn’t stop to Praise God for it, but I don’t think that rock was solid to begin with. He made that rock freeze in the gravel to give me security when I needed it most.)

Once the rest of the group caught up, it was then, and only then that both Dan and I realized that this “road” our fearless group leader was describing was not a road, but in fact a goat trail-- which at times was only 4-6 inches wide of packed dirt.

What Comes Up, Must Come Down... (but its the Down that Worries me the Most)

It was at this moment that I faced a dilemma: either go back down via way of the boulders (steep climbing), or traverse along the side of the cliffs, hugging the cliff walls.

I was terrified of both of these options. Watching our group leader from across the gorge wasn’t any easier. While it didn’t look like she had much room, the only thing that I saw was that she had 10 feet of rock slope, until it dropped off for hundreds of feet. *Translation* If you slip, you have 10 feet to stop your descent, until you die a horrible and gruesome death.

After much trepidation, I finally chose to go the way of goat trails. While normally I would protest, Dan (father of four, who at this point was treating me like a son), took my hand and I was too afraid of my own footing to dissuade him.

Did I learn any great revelations from this experience? I will always trust my own judgement and never go up a cliff. But also, I can believe his promises in His word, that in Psalms 18, that He is a rock, and a fortress firm beneath our feet. The next morning I was reading in Isaiah for my devotions and came across the passage, that we will go through fires and not get burnt and walk through rivers and not drown. I took this into a new meaning, I walked through a Wadi, and did not fall down, the Lord Saves!

Men And Women Have Different Hours

Finding a gym here in Jordan, was proving to be a difficult experience. I for one, do not lift weights to impress, rather, I lift because I have weak shoulders from playing American football. Feeling fat and weak, it was time for me to get back into the gym.

One that I tried out was called “VIP” but it was anything but this. When I arrived, I simply went inside. I’m waiting in the reception area, there was no one at the front desk. There was however a woman vacuuming the floor. So I politely hollered, “hello”.

She freaked out and started yelling at me in Arabic. She wasn’t wearing anything “inappropriate” and she did have clothes on, but for a Jordanian woman, she wasn’t wearing much. She ran behind a wall, while I turned and faced the door, figuring she was embarrassed. She continued to yell in Arabic, and I just wanted to know what was going on. Finally she was able to form the words in English “come back have past six”.

What I finally figured out, was that men and women work out at different times at this gym. I didn’t know this, and there was not a sign on the door informing any hapless American of the different gym hours.

Forty minutes later, she came out in a full burqa covering (covered from head to toe). She was a very traditional Muslim, and I was too embarrassed to look at her in the eye.

So Where Is All the Equipment?

I was in such a need for a workout, that at this point I didn’t care where I got it. The gym was falling apart. Most of the equipment had been heavily “modified”. Meaning the cables had snapped, and they had been tied together, etc. The crossover machine was such that the weights on one side were 5 inches higher than the ones on the other side.

I was scared working out here. All the while I could hear the voice of Adam Laforrest whispering in my ear, GET OUT OF HERE! (Adam wasn’t there, but he would have never worked out in this gym).

Even the simplest items, like the bench press was dangerous. You had to bang the bar to get it to rest on the uprights. Its not fun having to save energy, struggling to keep it from killing me.

Thankfully, I found a new gym, Sports City, an amazing complex with new equipment. The only thing that is odd, is that women work out with men at this gym (like any other gym I’ve been to), but somehow it feels especially weird now that I’m in Jordan.

Is My Driver A Jew???

Most taxi drivers have been especially curious and quizzative since I’ve arrived in Jordan. They want to talk to you, know where you are from, and what you are doing. On my way over to Sport City (which is aptly named as it comprises of tennis courts, a stadium, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, and of course a nice gym), I found a taxi driver who knew no English.

I had to call a friend and have him give the driver instructions. Once he got there, he tried to make me pay double! The outrage! After I had seen the taxi meter before he turned it off. I said no, this is two dollars you owe me a half dinar. He was upset and threw the money back into my lap. (There was no way that I was going to leave without paying).

I called up my friend who does speak Arabic, and the guy said that he felt that he should get paid more because he was following special instructions. Finally, he gave me the half dinar and I got out the car. To which my friend replied, “the driver went all Jewish on you.” (I don’t mean to slam Jews of course, but rather point out how they are perceived in Jordan, and how this drivers actions were that odious).

One final item, drivers here are very particular. They often wont pick you up unless you are going their way. Quite opposite to that in Hong Kong. It is against the law to refuse a person there. After having no less that 10 drivers refuse me today, I wish that was the case here in Jordan!

Anyway, have a wonderful day, as tomorrow is always a new day!

Salam (Peace)!

Greg

Swimming in the Dead Sea

Swimming in the Dead Sea:

This will not be the longest message, as I am a little pressed for time, but I did want to give you guys somewhat of an update. My journey here in Jordan has now lasted about 5 days, and I am loving it!

One of the very neat things that I’ve been able to do is to visit

the Dead Sea and go river hiking in a stream flowing into the dead sea.

River Hiking:

I went up this stream, there was amazing pictures and sights to see. I made this trip with Dan (not his real name) who is living here, and Andrew (not his real name) who is currently eliminating drugs from Afghanistan. The whole trip was somewhat of a challenge, as we had to go up some waterfalls that were steep.

In fact, one waterfall that I was going up, I lost my footing (they were swept under me), and I went careening down the waterfall certain to be smashed upon the rocks below me (I most likely would have broken a few bones). Luckily with my right arm, I managed to grab ahold of a rope that was dangling, and with my left hand I snagged my baseball cap that was most certainly going to swept away by the current.

While we were there Dan told a story about how Elijah hid on the brook of Cherith, (location uncertain) to be fed by ravens. While it is uncertain where this brook is, one could certainly see how easy it would be to hide there for years.

One last object lesson, as we floated closer to the dead sea, we could see all of these fresh water fish swimming, edging closer to their impending doom. The Dead sea is almost 80% salt, and 20% water. Nothing is alive in it at all. These fish would die within minutes once they reached the waters-- spiritual application, it doesn’t pay to swim and float with the herd.

Dead Sea:

Also there, we swam in the Dead Sea. It

’s fantastic because you cannot actually swim, but really just float. Its nearly impossible to sink in the sea because your body is so buoyant. There I had my first mud bath, with the famous Dead Sea mud.

Well, true to promise, I didn’t have much time to discuss in fantastic details all that is going on, but instead I hope you enjoy a few of these pictures. Check out my facebook for pictures in fuller detail.

Salem (Peace),

Greg

Quick Orientations

Quick Orientations:

Well I’ve been in and out of an assortment of orientations. I know that I’m in the MIddle East, but for me its difficult for me to quite realize that I’ve finally made it. Just like living in Hong Kong, it just feels just like any other place with different people. I’m not quite sure if any place will ever feel like home, but thats alright.

This is Your 5:00 AM Wake Up Call

One aspect about living in the Middle East which will most likely never stop annoying me, is the calls for prayer in the morning. Now, many of you are aware that in the Middle East they pray five times a day (albeit, the same exact prayer in the mosques). So in order to get the people up to pray (at around 6:00- 7:00), those calls for prayer go out on the loud speakers attached to the Minarets (tall towers that point skyward) at 5:00 AM, or a little before.

What does it sound like? Well more like a mixture between sing-shouting with quavering, near feverish pitches. It is absolutely inescapable to avoid. And I haven’t mastered the, turn over and go back to bed approach yet. (It goes on for about twenty minutes or so). Now don’t get me wrong, I am not being negative here. Actually I admire the dedication to prayer here. In many ways their devotion to their religion goes far beyond the superficial lip-service in America. Now, I cannot speak to the authenticity of servitude here, but there are certainly lessons to be learned as to devotion.

As for me, it hasn’t quite gone to being bothersome, for I’ve been waking up 15 or so minutes before the jamboree on loudspeakers. I end up doing my devotions and prayers around the same time the rest of the populace is doing theirs. And for one thing, its not bad to receive an extra reminder, and I do so out of willing volition.

Good To See You Again

I have enjoyed all the meals that have been both provided to me, and the things I’ve picked up. I don’t mind Middle Eastern cuisine, it can be quite delectable. On a related note, I quickly deduced that you aren’t supposed to put toilet paper into the porcelain throne. With that being said, I’ll leave you to your own imagination as to what the title of this section was referencing.

Great Each Other With A Holy Kiss

I haven’t kissed a dude yet. But I surmise that this is a date with fate that has been set upon the wheels with an unavoidable eventual destination. It is quite customary for friends to kiss their friends cheek. (Cheeky?) Just prior to my first adventure at an Arabic church was to ask, “I have only one question, am I going to have to kiss a guy?”

Well I didn’t have to, as it is quite customary at Western Churches to shake hands, but I’ve seen my American friends kiss other people around town. When the time comes, hopefully I’ll be prepared (but just so you know, I’m not willing to practice).

Cafe 56k Dial-Up

My morning rituals and routines will probably amount to me waking up before the crack of dawn everyday to jog. Yesterday, I had my laptop and was able to grab an internet connection at the Pinoy Cafe, today I wasn’t as successful today with my I-Phone.

If there is one thing that I’ve quickly learned, is that Jordanians (and really the entire Middle East) loves their coffee. There is no end or shortage of cafes, and once I get settled into a routine, I will enjoy going there. Perhaps, I’ll even do my lesson planning in one, once I get comfortable that is.

(Oh, and no cafe’s here use 56k dial-up, I just wanted a catchy title).

They Came From Under the Sink

I’ll post pictures of my humble abode later. Its quite quaint, yet I’ve already found some of the inhabitants before I moved in (to describe them, it has six legs, an oval orangish-brown tinted body, with two long tell-tale feelers). I asked about it, they apparently come in from the sink drain, and we’re supposed to cover the drainage hole when they are not in use. (Pictures of outside my apartment).

Jordanian Conspiracy Theories

Apparently Jordanians love their conspiracy theories. Now, I haven’t heard any of them directly, but they’ve been passed down to me by others.

1.) Cold air (AC in the Car) blowing onto your abdomen will give you diarrhea

2.) If a road is closed due to construction, there must be some ulterior motive

3.) The government actually has water, and the shortage is fictional

4.) The armed guards in front of embassies that hold semi-automatic weapons, don’t have any ammunition in them. (I’m not quite sure how this is a conspiracy, but I heard that today).

Well that does it for updates here. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes to grab a morning breakfast, but I’ll continue to post only the most interesting aspects of my adventure.

Salem (Peace),

Greg

“I’m A Leaving On A Jet Plane!”

"I'm A Leaving On A Jet Plane!"

The whirlwind of events that has transpired in the past twenty-four hours is enough to make my head spin. So welcome to my blog, and the end of my official first day in Jordan.

Rough Beginnings

The morning of the big day began without many incidents. I awoke to the ringing of my alarm at 8:00 in the morning, to which I promptly shut it off to sleep another hour. The rest of the morning had me scrambling around, throwing the rest of my unpacked items into suitcases, and burning portions of my parents CD collection onto my mac-monster.

Errands and Earfuls

At 12:00 my parents and embarked on the first leg of my journey, not to the airport, but instead to the bank and post office. (It would seem a certain Would-Be-International-Traveler had forgotten to both file and pay his US taxes for the 2008 fiscal year... that being said I didn’t have any taxes for I paid them all in Hong Kong, but I forgot to file them nonetheless.)

Despite these quick errands, we made great time. We were clipping along the Interstate, and only 15 minutes away from the Airport when suddenly we hit stand-still traffic. That fifteen minutes suddenly turned into an hour and fifteen minutes. My parents went nuts (funny I was the serene one, haha), while I sat in the backseat and prayed.

Security Measures

Instead of arriving with three hours to spare, suddenly my timeframe of getting checked in, past security, and to the gate at time had elapsed to only an hour and a half (which might seem like not a big deal, but it took an hour to get through check-in alone last year). But a funny thing happened, work of Providence, when I showed up there wasn’t a line. I got through check-in portion in record breaking time. Security was also a breeze as well, only taking me 5 minutes to go through in Philadelphia. (Chicago was a different story, the x-ray lady thought I had smuggled a bomb or something onto my carry-on, they emptied everything from it. Sure enough, no bombs).

When I finally got to the gate, I had a whole hour to spare. Incredible! I had enough time for some lunch =)

This is Your Captain Speaking

My two flights could be characterized as the following: While the flight to Chicago was turbulent, it was a mostly peaceful flight; whereas the flight to Amman was tranquil, I was miserable (couldn’t sleep well, my neck got a cramp, and I started to get the sweats until I propped my head a different way).

On both flights, I had a chance to talk to people around me and share what it was that I would be doing, and my desire to be an authentic man of faith. (I hope Rosalyn eventually finds this blog, that would be awesome. Oh, if I misspelled your name, I’m sorry.)

He Walks Among You

As I waited in line to board the flight to Jordan, two interesting things occurred for me. 1.) I noticed that I looked a great deal like many of the people surrounding me. I grew a slight beard, but many of those standing next to me had similar stooping foreheads and similar sloping noses. I felt like I was “one of them” -- a Jordanian too.

2.) And secondly, they thought so as well. The man standing next to me kept cracking Arabic jokes to me, I couldn’t understand a word he said, but I laughed nonetheless, smiled and of course nodded.

As the plane took off, a sense of overwhelming joy and elation (not fears and apprehensions) swept over me. I knew I was going where I was supposed to be going, and I knew who it was that was directing me.

The Inboard Flight Entertainment Was What???

As they began handing out our first flight meal, they popped in a movie simply titled “The Meadow”. If you are thinking this was a quaint existential story much in the method of Albert Camus description of some transforming phase in life, you would be wrong. Or if this was some campy Juliet Roberts or Sandra Bullock love flick, again your way off base. No, it was in fact a movie about a meadow (deep huh?). And so as I was munching down my “spicy chicken on rice” I watched playful ants hungrily devoir a Yellow Jacket (a type of bee). Sigh, desert wasn’t any better, by the time I got to my Apple Strudel, some tractor was spraying manure out in the fields. Sometimes you just cannot win.

Mom Was Right About the Breath Mints

Well my mom always tells me to pack breath mints on a plane because, “You never know who’ll you be sitting next to.” I always respond, “I have never sat next to an attractive person, I’ve prayed for that, it doesn’t work.”

Well let me consult my journal notes on the plane (I was typing on my Iphone):

9.26.09 Entry #4

“On a purely secular note, I did sit beside (across the isle) from a very cute Jordanian girl.... I wonder how I’ll work up the nerve to talk to her.”

45 Minute Intermission

9.26.09 Entry #5

“Her name was Noor.”

Of course I know a lot more about her, (like how she’s in her second year of University, studying to become a dentist, and was visiting her sisters in Iowa, but I don’t want to bore you with all those mundane details, as if you were interested in that.)

All By Myself

(At this moment, the author of this blog would like to point out that this paragraph has nothing to do with the previous section)

After the plane touched down, I went through customs, immigration, and baggage claim. I was very curious to see as to who would be there waiting for me. When I got out in the open area, I was surprised to find that no one was there for me.

I was surprised, people from Jordan was supposed to be there to pick me up. But so far, no one was there at all. So I waited, and waited, and I waited some more. About an hour goes by... the first thoughts running through my mind was 1.) well I’m sure you could guess some of my thoughts, what am I going to do if no one shows up? How am I going to contact them? Did they think I looked too Jordanian, didn’t recognize me and left?

Well what I wasn’t going to do was start searching the airport. Its better to remain in one location. I went to the Info desk and I was going to have them page “Greg Butz” (I wasn’t 100% sure who was picking me up), but the guy there told me that they didn’t have a speaker phone. (What good is that??)

Finally, I bought a internet card, for an obscene amount of money and began emailing them, and trying to send text messages to their cell phones from online. I got on facebook and was about ready to have my mom contact them via phone (I didn’t have a Jordan Sim card), when David Knaus and Aaron showed up.

(He found me because he asked his daughter to check his email... and they accidently went to the wrong terminal at first, and couldn’t recognize me.)

First Meal, First Sleep

It was hard to tell what the city looks like at night, I’ll have to explore more tomorrow, but I was a good feeling to be here. We had a meal similar to Habbibis in Hong Kong (gyro with shaved meat), it was great, and cheaper too!

Finally I got to see my apartment, I didn’t know what to expect, but its good. Its cozy and livable. It has all the necessary items a good home needs. So I am typing this up on my couch. I’ll give you guys a walk through of my apartment at a later time! Of course its not as large as Hong Kong, but for one person, its just what I need!

Salem (Peace)

Greg

Tomorrow I Leave

New Beginnings:

Tomorrow I fly out to Jordan... this will most likely prove to be a fun and exciting journey in my life. The overall purpose of this year was to gain new life experiences, work with refugees, and overall become more dependent upon Him. This next year in its entirety will be all volunteer work (pro bono), meaning I will be supporting myself from the income I made teaching in Hong Kong. But remember, I do this not for myself, but for those in need.

This blog itself will not necessarily become an assortment of discoherent ramblings and babblings of my life, but rather I hope to make this as insightful and humorous as possible. I would love to interpose spiritual truths to this as possible, but please keep in mind that I might be limited in that capacity.

Fears and Trepidations:

There is a certain thrill each time you leave home. No one was as ready to leave home than I was after high school. My four years of university were filled with many of life's lessons, but it wasn't a major change of scenery. I still lived in the United States, at least until my last semester where I did my student teaching in Hong Kong. Hong Kong must have held a certain allure to me, as it is where I ended up doing my first two years of student teaching. So living in another culture isn't so foreign to me... however, the night before I go I find myself eagerly anticipating it, and wishing I had a few more days to pack up all my belongings.

My Quarter-Life Crisis:

The adjustment back to United States living, took some process. I sometimes wonder why I was unable to visit Pakistan during the summer, but all things work out the way they do for a reason. It took nearly a month to re-citizenship myself back to being an American. I found myself thinking and doing Asian actions. (*See virtually every picture of me, I can't stop making the V sign with my first two fingers. Aiya! ... lol, =__= ).

But after a month, I realized that this was all for a good thing, for my hair had been falling out in buckets from stress. (Seriously, I had lost half of it). Though my follicle forrest has thinned out, I have hope that a few more roots will be growing soon.

As I type this, I'm twenty-four, and young enough to still be figuring out the direction of my life. But 25 is around the corner, and in 5 years, 30, and in 15 years 40. But lets just worry about 24 right now. (Will I ever return to teaching? I certainly hope so, and I haven't strayed far, I'll be teaching English in both Jordan and Thailand this year).

Finding Family Again:

Though I had made a new family in Hong Kong, I have rediscovered my own family (not that I misplaced them, or anything that drastic: just keep in mind that four years of university followed by 2.5 years in Hong Kong, it just was hard to keep up).

My younger brother is now married, he has the cutest little son (my nephew Jace); my sister is in Washington DC on an internship; and my parents shoot guns for fun.

My cats have become inseparably attached to me, which is why my leaving might be harder for them, than for me.

The Five Stages of Kitty Grief:

1. Stage One: Denial -- yesterday, Kiki saw the suitcase in my room, and he knows what it is. Usually he hides when he sees them rolling down the hall for he knows someone will be leaving soon. Instead he climbed into it and fell asleep.

2. Stage Two: Anger -- today, after I began packing, Kiki got very angry with me. He refused to acknowledge my presence, and he stormed out

of my room when I began packing.

3. Stage Three: Bargaining -- a few hours later, he jumped up on my bed and began howling at me, and eventually went to sleep next to the bag. It was as if he was begging me not to go.

4. Stage Four: Depression -- my cat hasn't reached this stage yet, but he will when I don't come home. He has slept on my bed every night and will be in the dumps for weeks to come.

5. Stage Five: Acceptance -- it will take a long time before he reaches this stage.

Final Thoughts:

I'll continue to post on my experiences. Sometimes I might post only one or two times a week, and other times it might be more. Please follow, and of course feed me tons of comments. I would love to hear all the prayers and encouragement that you could offer me.

Last Shoutout!

My mom gets all the credit for the picture above. I chose the site, and wanted a very distinct look... instead she took a candid capture when I wasn't looking, and it turned out to be the best picture in the whole album. Thanks Mom!!!