Daily Life, Michigan

Shop till you drop (or until you waste your entire freakin’ summer vacation)

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I don’t know why I’m so behind on blogging about our summer vacation. It’s not like I don’t have any free time. I spend most of it feeding ducks … and shopping online. At least my computer faces the wall behind the windows that face the lake so I can see the water reflected in the computer screen.

Wow, that sounded pretty pathetic.

You know what would be awesome? If you guys would join me in the online shopping joy … mostly because I can earn kickbacks, but also because I want to share the fun. I have subscribed to a few shopping notifications, and I kid you not, I scored some shockingly affordable fabulous finds.

Here are my recommendations. And I must admit that I learned about all these sites from my shopping pimp, CanCan.

Check out Swirl – Here’s what they say about themselves, “It’s a place to buy clothes and accessories at up to 80% off from designers you love and buzz-worthy fashion-world newbies.” I say it’s a fun little collection of cool stuff that you seriously NEED.
To ensure I benefit from your shopping extravaganza, please get there by clicking my link: http://www.swirl.com/invite/theguidehog
Check out Ideeli – This is the shopping site I love the most. They email you with “on sale today” links, and I’ve found some awesome deals on gorgeous designer clothes and shoes.
Again, please use my link: http://www.ideeli.com/invite/dentsadventure
Check out Bluefly – Some of this stuff is crazy expensive ($2,500 for a raincoat? Seriously?), but then you find a swanky sexy AWESOME swimsuit that was originally $150 but you got it on sale for $40. Oh yeah! Run, don’t walk to your nearest keyboard and click here: http://www.bluefly.com/invite/12cb6f7rf

Happy shopping!

Daily Life, Michigan

Nephews+rocks+dirt+creek+picnic= happy auntie!

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Michigan may struggle to get its economy back on track, but this state should take pride in its fantastic parks and trail systems. I can ride my bike from our lake house to my mom’s house (30 minutes by car or an hour on beautiful wooded bike trails), or I can hit the trails to reach almost any other town in the state (not that I HAVE, but I COULD). The parks are clean with plenty of picnic tables, toilets, shade, well-maintained playgrounds and – more often than not – a body of water. What a perfect way to spend a morning with my little guys!

Paul gives me a tour of the playground at Rochester Park.

Swingin’.

Counting ducks.

Paul mostly threw rocks into the water or splashed.

Nico built a big canal system with dams, bridges, and lakes.

This squirrel got a little too close for comfort. I was having PTSD flashbacks to my youth, when a squirrel bit my hand when I fed it some sunflower seeds.

Picnic!

We kicked the soccer ball around for awhile, and I taught Nico the concept of kicking the ball into the goal. (I know, you’re laughing at the idea of me kicking a ball and/or teaching anyone anything about any sport. Go ahead, enjoy it. I understand.) Mostly, I taught him about the theatrics AFTER you make a goal. Eventually, Katy kicked the ball into the creek, and despite chasing it downstream with Paul’s walking stick for awhile, she lost both the ball and the stick. Paul, who struggles to pronounce consonant blends, said, “Hey, where’s my DICK?!”

We had so much fun that we did it again a few days later when our other sister Megan arrived. This time, we picked a different spot at Paint Creek. The boys did a lot of digging.

Meg and Nico looked for tiny shells and fossils.

Potty break. Did I mention the park has a wonderful, clean bathroom? Nico couldn’t be bothered.

Paul and I threw a lot of rocks.

We took turns playing “football,” which really meant throwing the ball and then racing to get it, except when the boys changed the rules to be a standard game of chase.

Daily Life, Michigan

Lovin’ the Library!

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I haven’t crossed the threshold of a public library in about 10 years. School libraries, sure, but public libraries? They didn’t exist in Istanbul, Shanghai or Vientiane, and I usually borrowed books from friends for summer reading (and eventually bought a kindle). So when rain prevented us from playing in the lake, my sister Kate and I took her boys to the Lake Orion Library. And it was awesome. AWESOME!

Nico and Paul played with the train.

They staged a puppet show.

They checked out the fish.

They goofed around in the big canoe.

And they checked out a bunch of books.

Did you know you can check out up to 100 books? ONE HUNDRED BOOKS!! I helped the boys find some of my favorites: Pete the Cat, That’s Good That’s Bad, Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, Animalia, Fish is Fish, Animals Should Definitely Not Wear Clothing, and many more! And we read them over and over at my house.

I think I may even check out grown-up books while I’m here.

Daily Life

The Grass is Always Greener Club

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As the president, secretary and – ok, in the interest of full disclosure – the ONLY member of the Grass is Always Greener Club, I hereby call this meeting to order.

First, we will review the minutes from our June 13 meeting.
Location: Vientiane, Laos
In Attendance: Me
Agenda:
(1) Bitch about Laos.
* For the last 4 (FOUR!) Sundays we haven’t had electricity at our house. While we can count on power-free Sundays, we’ve found Saturdays to be more of a mystery. Sometimes we have power; sometimes not. In case you haven’t heard, our shippers are coming in a week to pack up our house for the move to India. Electricity sure would be useful right now. We’re not just talking about lights. We’re talking about air conditioning (it’s sweltering in this house-cum-sauna), the water pump (can’t flush the toilets!), and the fridge (can’t keep any food over the weekend).
* The school is making us pay back about $1,200 they gave us to attend professional development classes this year. Never mind that Tony was REQUIRED to attend his class and that I offered FOUR staff workshops to share my learning. I think they got their money’s worth. But apparently they didn’t think so. Not cool.
* Rain. Rain. Rain. Seriously? More rain?

(2) Look forward to getting back to the U.S.
* Michigan 4-berry pie
* Nephews
* Clothes dryer and a dishwasher
* Good wine
* Semi-retired dad and entertaining mom
* Pool and lake
* Wooded bike trails
* Fourth of July
* Electricity!
* the Apple Store
* and so on and so on, ad infinitum.

And now let’s review the minutes from our June 24 meeting.
Location: Lake Orion, Michigan, USA
In attendance: Me
Agenda:
(1) Wax nostalgic about Laos
* After eating a foot-long banana that tasted like a banana-scented sports sock, I found myself wistfully longing for Lao fruit. Those tiny bananas were packed with rich sweetness, and the juicy rambutans with their wacky spiky red jackets were in season when we left. Our mango tree underproduced this spring, but the ladies at the market just outside my gate were happy to oblige. Right up until my last days in Laos, I was discovering fruit I had never sampled before. Although all dragonfruit has fuchsia skin, did you know some have equally hot pink fruit? I only just learned that! Some kindergarten kids showed me a marble-sized fruit that I hadn’t yet tried, but they didn’t know the English word for it, and I never did figure it out. Despite my tendency to take all good things for granted, I do believe that I fully appreciated the fruit in Laos to the point of boring the pants off anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby when I bought/ate/thought about it.
* My Lao friends at school gave me the most heartfelt going-away gift: a photo album with funny little poems, stories and memories from our time together. When they presented it to me on the second-to-the-last day of school, I had a serious emotional meltdown. In this international teaching world, we often cross paths with our expat friends again and again, but the local staff generally stays put. Unless I visit Laos, I’m unlikely to see them again. And they really are some of the kindest, cleverest, funniest, most selfless people I’ve met. I miss them already.
* For two years, my Chinese knock-off Giant bicycle served me well as both my sole method of transportation and my main form of exercise. While rainy seasons literally put a damper on my cycling pursuits, and hot seasons forced me to carry a change of clothes for the 5-minute ride to school, I learned a great deal about myself and my host country while pedaling along the Mekong, around the dusty roads of Vientiane, and through the villages with Team Dai on our three-day trip to Phonsavanh.

(2) Rag on America
* After reading Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, I had every intention of being a “locavore” this summer. I wanted to eat only food produced in Michigan, especially closer to home. But that’s easier said than done! At our local grocery store, the strawberries were trucked in from California and the blueberries made the trek from North Carolina. All of the salad fixin’s had road tripped to Lake Orion from everywhere BUT Michigan. On Wednesday, we visited the local farmer’s market, which boasted five booths. Only one sold locally grown produce. I bought some organic eggs, a couple red peppers and a few tomatoes. That took care of Thursday’s breakfast. Now what?
* I forgot how fun it is to drive! Unfortunately, road rules in America are actual RULES and not merely suggestions like they are in other parts of the world. There is easily enough room to make another lane on the highway, but god forbid someone tries to wedge her way between the regular lanes of traffic in her altruistic attempt to ease the unbearable rush-hour congestion.
* This is the land of the free, but you know what’s not free? Mobile phone service. In fact, it’s freakin’ expensive. And if you only reside in this country for five weeks out of the year, you’ll pay out the wazoo for some top-it-up disposable phone. Which is what we’re doing.
* Last August, I called AT&T and explained that we were leaving the country and wanted to disconnect our internet. No problem, they said. We’ll just switch it right back on when you get back, they said. Liars. An AT&T workman spent four hours at our house yesterday, alternately messing with the router inside, poking wires around in the outdoor utility box, and – I kid you not – hoisted up in a cherry picker to do something with the overhead lines. Sigh.
* My parents lent us their PT Cruiser for the summer, which is such a blessing (even if it triggers creepy bedroom eyes in the octogenarian crowd at the local CVS drugstore). Having a vehicle seemed like such a treat after two years of commuting by bicycle … that is, until I had to pump gas. We’ve been in the States for about five days, and we’ve put almost $90 worth of gas into that car.

Hmmm… I see a pattern here. Let’s shift gears for today’s meeting.
Location: Lake Orion, Michigan, USA (on the deck, overlooking the lake)
In attendance: Me, a few ducks and the swan family
Agenda:
(1) Express Gratitude for the Past
Every place has pros and cons. Living in a developing country and working at a school that wasn’t the best fit for us posed a new set of challenges, some of which we met successfully head-on and some of which inspired unparalleled whining until the moment we boarded the plane to leave Laos. As someone who obviously doesn’t know what I’ve got till it’s gone, I can now appreciate how much I grew and learned. Looking back over my blog posts from the last two years, I can’t believe how much I saw and did in a place where there’s really not that much to see and do. I will always have a spot in my heart for the sunshine, landscape, culture and friendships that blessed my life in Laos.

(2) Express Gratitude for the Present
After spending two years in a third-world country, I’m struck by the commercialism, materialism and waste here in the United States. At the same time, I love the ease of life that comes with all that. So while I try to leave the smallest carbon footprint possible during my month in America, I’ll treasure the comfort of being home.
This week I’m surrounded by family, including my beloved little nephews, and nothing makes me happier!

(3) Express Gratitude for the Future
On July 24, we’ll head off for a new adventure in India. We’re moving to New Delhi, where we’ll teach at the American Embassy School. I’m nervous about the pollution and congestion of a big city and the lack of diversity of our new staff, but I’m super excited about our school’s excellent reputation and the return to a curriculum and teaching methodology that jibes with my own style. Tony and I look forward to getting involved in a vibrant school community, exploring our new city, learning about the local food and culture, and traveling in India.

As of today, the Grass is Always Greener Club is hereby disbanded. I’m thinking of starting the Gratitude is the Best Attitude Club. Any joiners?

Daily Life, Laos

Final Family Night – Lao Kitchen

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It’s with a heavy heart that I report on our last Family Night dinner here in Vientiane. As the day approached, we wracked our brains to pick a restaurant worthy of this momentous occasion. Nikki researched a dinner cruise on the Mekong, but most feedback suggested health-and-safety standards were questionable. (After all this time in Asia, I wouldn’t know a health-and-safety standard if it punched me in the face, but I did wonder whether chartering a boat for four people would really be all that fun.)

We finally settled on Mak Phet, a lovely little joint that trains street kids to work in the restaurant industry. We had all been there before and savored several of the delicious Lao dishes.  Carol and Nikki arrived at the restaurant first and discovered the menu had changed. Nothing sounded good enough to warrant the unusually high prices, so we held a quick family meeting and moved the party to my favorite restaurant in town: Lao Kitchen.
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Lao Kitchen is owned by Noy, a woman who used to work in our school canteen. She and her staff prepare fantastic Lao food bursting with fresh flavors. Some of my favorite dishes include chicken wrapped in pandan leaves (which comes with a to-die-for citrus/chili sauce), curry with tofu, stir-fried morning glory (with an insane amount of garlic), basil stir fry, ginger stir fry and any other stir fry. You almost can’t go wrong. The only thing I didn’t love at Lao Kitchen was the crispy pork (no, it’s nothing like bacon), although I didn’t try the duck bills (been there, done that) or the “chicken knees and elbows.”
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That’s Noy in the black t-shirt.
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We asked one of the lovely servers to take a photo. Maybe it was her first time?
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Carol enjoys a watermelon shake.
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Living so far away from home, we often find ourselves craving familiar comfort food like burgers or mashed potatoes or big salads with fancy candied nuts. It’s easy to get bored with the local cuisine; no matter how much you love it, you can only eat so much sticky rice. In Vientiane, we can choose from Italian, Turkish, Chinese, Mediterranean, Indian, Belgian, Thai, German, French, Mexican (well, it’s really more of a brothel), and countless other ethnic culinary options. But I have found myself sipping a cold Beer Lao to wash down that spicy Lao Kitchen curry probably once a week since it opened. That’s a real testament to how fab (and cheap) this place really is.

But I saved the best for last: mango with sticky rice and coconut milk. Possibly the world’s most perfect dessert. It sounds so simple, and yet I have goosebumps of joy as I write this.

Following our final Family Night dinner, we all motored to Walkman Village, a treasure trove of imported knock-off designer crap. We tried on swim caps with Nikki and helped Carol pick out a Prada bag for her teaching assistant.
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Finally, we wrapped up the night with Stupid Sticks, an addictive card game Nikki brought from Saskatchewan.
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No, that’s not a meth lab. Tony’s crashed on the mattress in our living room and the girls are drinking out of plastic kegger cups because the movers hauled away all our stuff this week.

Daily Life, Laos

Farewell from friends makes my heart sing

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Our school’s end-of-year party generally features a buffet dinner, a little entertainment and formal farewells to the departing staff. As one of the those departing staff members this year, I was dreading a sappy send-off. Usually I love being the center of attention, but not when the situation turns me into a blithering idiot. (The potential is always there, I know, but good-byes are particularly tricky.)

So when the farewells got under way at our party Saturday night, I tried to keep my mind otherwise occupied with catty remarks to my table mates, snuggles with a friend’s baby, and a trip to the bathroom. Another departing teacher, Terese, had a teary moment with the microphone that nearly broke my own emotional dam, but I held it together. Soon my picture popped up on the screen, and I knew there was no avoiding it. However, instead of the usual videotaped comments from friends and colleagues, my special GFs Carol and Nikki took the mics and announced they had a live farewell for Tony and me.

I quickly dashed back to my seat for the surprise performance. As the first notes of “Hotel California” floated from the speakers, I clapped with anticipation. That’s one of my signature karaoke numbers, which I have sung (badly) at many local restaurants and parties. I thought it would be a fitting final tribute, but no, it was even better than that. With the help of accomplished songstress Candice Broom, they had written new lyrics full of references to life here in Laos, special moments we’ve shared in Vientiane and plenty of inside jokes. They knew exactly what I needed: love and laughs, free of sob-inducing gushiness.

I was too thrilled and stunned to think of picking up my camera, but Tony took this photo. If I find out someone filmed it, I’ll post the video later.

Here are the lyrics:
Pinky Beef Pot (sung to the tune of Hotel California)
On a small lonely campus, humid breeze in my hair,
Warm smell of shrimp paste, rising up through the air.
Up ahead in the distance I saw a shimmering Wat.
My head grew sweaty and my clothes grew wet,
Thanks god I got my shot.
The students entered the doorway, I heard the late bell.
Then I was thinking to myself this could be Heaven or this could be Hell.
While I sipped on a Diet Coke, and tried to show them the way,
There were voices throughout the town; I thought I heard them say,
“Saibaidee to the restaurant Pinky Beef Pot
Such a lovely place
(Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely taste
Living it up at the restaurant Pinky Beef Pot
Organ meats and beer
(Organ meats and beer)
You can find it here.”
Her mind is PYP twisted, he’s got the DP bends.
They’re praying that India puts them on the financial mend.
Oh the noise in the courtyard, hide under the ‘squito net.
Some things you want to remember, some you have to forget.
So I called to the mei baan, “Please bring me my wine.”
The students make me so tired I go to sleep before 9.
And still mortgages are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the night just to hear them say,
“Lar con to the restaurant Pinky Beef Pot
Such a lovely place
(Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely taste
No more family nights at Pinky Beef Pot
What a nice surprise
(What a nice surprise)
Just wish they had French fries.”

Now, here it is again with explanatory notes and shameless plugs for old blog posts.
Pinky Beef Pot (sung to the tune of Hotel California)
On a small lonely campus (Vientiane International School), humid breeze in my hair.
Warm smell of shrimp paste (Southeast Asian staple ingredient), rising up through the air.
Up ahead in the distance I saw a shimmering Wat (that’s Lao for “temple,” and there’s one on every corner – see my Wat ‘O’ the Week posts).
My head grew sweaty (reference to the scorching heat) and my clothes grew wet (reference to the Pii Mai holiday, when the monks doused me with a hose – see the blog post Wat Watnak – or should I say “Wet” Watnak?),
Thanks god (we picked up the extra “s” from the Turks when we lived in Istanbul) I got my shot.
The students entered the doorway, I heard the late bell.
Then I was thinking to myself this could be Heaven or this could be Hell.
While I sipped on a Diet Coke (Tony’s cocktail of choice), and tried to show them the way,
There were voices throughout the town; I thought I heard them say,
“Saibaidee (“hello” in Lao) to the restaurant Pinky Beef Pot (one of our favorite Family Night destinations – see the blog post, Family Night – Pinky Beef Pot)
Such a lovely place
(Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely taste
Living it up at the restaurant Pinky Beef Pot
Organ meats and beer (self-explanatory, no?)
(Organ meats and beer)
You can find it here.”
Her mind is PYP twisted (Primary Years Programme – the convoluted elementary school curriculum framework of the International Baccalaureate Organization), he’s got the DP bends (Diploma Programme – the International Baccalaureate’s curriculum for grades 11 and 12).
They’re praying that India puts them on the financial mend (our new jobs at the American Embassy School in New Delhi, India, come with a big pay raise! Wahoo!).
Oh the noise in the courtyard, hide under the ‘squito net (don’t mess with Dengue Fever).
Some things you want to remember, some you have to forget.
So I called to the mei baan (Lao for “housekeeper,” although ours has never actually brought me a drink of any kind), “Please bring me my wine.”
The students make me so tired I go to sleep before 9 (true dat).
And still mortgages are calling from far away (investing in one of the most oppressed cities in the U.S. might not have been our most fiscally responsible decision … just sayin’),
Wake you up in the middle of the night just to hear them say,
“Lar con (“good-bye” in Lao) to the restaurant Pinky Beef Pot
Such a lovely place
(Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely taste
No more family nights at Pinky Beef Pot
What a nice surprise
(What a nice surprise)
Just wish they had French fries. (I loves me some French fries!)“

Daily Life, Teaching

Korean math warriors

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As an EAL teacher, I spend a lot of time in the elementary classrooms helping kids who speak English as an Additional Language. Recently, I visited third grade, where students were writing narratives. The teacher had provided a framework, which students copied into their writing books: introduction, beginning event, resolution, conclusion. Next, children sketched an illustration next to each step in their stories in preparation for writing.

I sat down with a Korean boy (I’ll call him Ji-Hun here), who started at our school mid-year with no English. He had scribbled a bunch of Korean notes, which of course I couldn’t check, to clarify what each section of his story should include. My usual M.O. is to have the kid describe the pictures to me, and I dictate the story back to him in accurate English. Then he tries to recreate the story in his own words with some help from me, first verbally and then in writing.

Ji-Hun had drawn this picture first. After a lot of gestures and random nouns, I realized it was a Korean mountain range, and those two guys were having a sword fight. We spent a lot of time trying to figure out “mountain” because he kept insisting “berry cold, berry cold,” which made me think he was describing a glacier or Antarctica or something. So, OK, we had a setting.

His next drawings show the fight sequence. The first warrior asks, “What is 1 X 100?” The other clearly less intelligent warrior answers, “One?”

Hmmm… well. Not sure what to make of that.

The smart warrior simply wasn’t going to tolerate such poor math skills, so he plunges his sword into the dumb warrior’s belly.

Ji-Hun described it to me basically just as I have written it. Was the second fighter trying to solve a riddle to cross the mountain pass? I acted this out, but he denied that was the purpose of the math battle. I couldn’t think of any other reason for a sword fight to ensue over multiplication. He tried to explain in Korean, while tugging on his hair with exasperation.

I just couldn’t let it go. Finally, we went next door to a different third grade class, where I asked another Korean student (with stronger English skills) to discuss the story with Ji-Hun. After a couple minutes of chatting, the student erupted in laughter. “He understands that every narrative has to have a problem and a resolution,” he said. “But he thinks the ‘problem’ has to be a MATH problem.”

Mystery solved! We all had a good chuckle.

Then I sat down with Ji-Hun and made up short stories off the top of my head for him to identify the problem. “The little cat is so hungry. She looks everywhere for food, but she can’t find any. Then Miss Sharon gives it some milk. The end.” What’s the problem? Yes, the cat is hungry. What’s the resolution? Yes, Miss Sharon gives it some milk. And so on.

Eventually, the light bulb went off and Ji-Hun revamped his story. In the new version, he and his family are hiking in the aforementioned mountains. He gets distracted and falls behind. Soon he loses them completely and can’t find his way home. He walks and walks, crying out for help. Finally, a friend finds him and points out that his house is only a few meters away. It won’t win any prizes, but at least he gets the idea.

Today’s English lesson: When you write a narrative, math is optional.

Daily Life, Laos

Dancing through a decade – an ode to my shoes

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At the turn of the century, the global panic was all about how our digital world was unprepared for Y2K. Servers were going to crash, all our personal data would be up for grabs, hackers would have a field day. But none of that mattered because I had the most amazing black velvet-patterned platform strappy sandals for the New Year’s Eve party. When you’re wearing smokin’ hot shoes, you can take on the world.

Here’s a shot of 32-year-old me and my sexy date, Tony, in his stylin’ vest at a Y2K party we attended with our friends Kelly and Dale. I still have that dress (black velvet with maribou trim is timeless, people). And those shoes have served me well.

party shoes

Here’s a shot of 43-year-old me at our school’s end-of-year party last year. The more things change, the more they stay the same. I know you can’t see the shoe very well, but trust me, it’s stunning.

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Last weekend, I got a call around 5 p.m. from my friend Paula (pictured above, middle). She had two tickets to the Women’s International Group Ball, a swanky affair that raises money to support underprivileged women and children in Laos. The tickets cost $100 each, which explains why none of my teacher friends were attending (unless they were married to non-teacher spouses who earned notably non-teacher salaries). Paula’s husband, Justin (who is a doctor), was sick and couldn’t attend the soiree that evening, so she was going to give Tony and me both her tickets. I knew Tony would rather poke out his eyeballs with the heel of my awesome shoe rather than attend a ball, so I suggested that we go together. “I’ll pick you up at 6:15!” she said.

That gave me about an hour to look fabulous, which of course, was no problem.

And then disaster struck. I rummaged through a closet to find the box containing my gorgeous Chinese Laundry shoes, but when I pulled one out, the whole sole detached from the strappy upper! My only other shoe option was a pair of black Steve Madden stiletto pumps with a big button on the rounded toe, which obviously was too casual for my low-back spaghetti-strap black crepe dress. Super Glue was the only answer.

I glued the hell out of those shoes and then tentatively buckled them on. I had visions of getting wild on the dance floor and having a shoe snap in half, sending me ass over tea kettle. Broken ankles. Exposed panties. Oh Lord, what was I thinking? But seriously, I didn’t have another pair of shoes quite that hot. So I decided to risk it.

I did get a little wild on the dance floor. But just a little. And miraculously, my old Chinese Laundry platforms went the distance. When I got home, I yanked them off in the kitchen and stumbled to bed. In the morning, I prepared to pack them safely away until another rich person needed a date to a ball, but when I grabbed the strap, the whole shoe split in half. It was a sign from God, the end of an era. Sadly, I took them outside and snapped a photo for posterity and then dropped them in the trash with a little prayer of thanks for so many years of loyal service.

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Looks like someone will be doing a little shoe shopping this summer.

Adventures in Teaching and Travel