Friday, September 30, 2011
My life right now.
Well, as I begin writing it is 9:20 pm on a Friday.
I just worked from home for at least 12 hours straight. I even ate brreakfast and lunch at my desk like a good woker bee.
I finished 6 hour long powerpoint presentations as well as an assessment and answer key.
I feel good about my progress today.
I have also allowed myself two rather full glasses of wine. I made myself a delicious and somewhat healthy dinner and I have eaten two heaping helpings.
I also feel a little bit like I did the first year of TFA. Somewhat lost in a cloud of doubt about my ability to actually do this. I know what I am good at, taking notes- studying said notes and regurgitating them on paper.
Thats why I loved college. It was easy. Nothing was actually applied to the real world. It is pretty scary when the CEO of the company you work for turns to you in a meeting and asks you a question and whatever you answer will change the policy. Thats a lot of power I never realized how much weight a word could have. I like the idea of being able to change the world but at 24 I dont know if I have enough knowledge/experience for a mere utterance of mine to do much good, much less change policy, schedules, training modules and the like.
This job that I currently hold is taking me back to the years that I would rather soon forget. A time of internal turmoil, disspointment and a feeling like I want not good. NOT that I wasn't the best at something, but that I was not even GOOD at something. I wish to feel the same level of confidence in my abilites when I was first stepping into the Fulbright program. I was too cocky but at least I knew that wherever they put me and whatever they had me teach I could do, and do it well. I have gone from swimming laps in Korea to barely keeping myself from drowning in Kenya.
After almost 2 months of being in hereI feel like I understand....it. I have met some really cool people at my workplace and they stop by to say hello to me each day, even though I rarely return the favor. I have found the people here to have a lot of flavor, a lot of zest and spark and I really like my Kenyan co-workers though I really wonder why they try to befriend a deer in the headlights girl who is furiously typing away at her computer trying to meet impossibly set deadlines.
As the rush of deadlines comes and goes and I do not die from the long night or work and the stress of constant changes to the forms that I attempt to make sense out of I am comforted by a few things. First, just like with the TFA nightmare I know that this too shall pass. One day I will look back and think- WHY oh WHY did I think making 12 powerpoints to train new school managers on forms that change as often as my underware (daily, thank you very much) in a span of 2 days was a big deal. Second, I will realize that the impact I made over the course of my stay was greater than the sacrifice of staying in a few weekends and having to tell my boyfriend that he should not come up to see me on the weekend.
OH yeah, amazing as it is, I actually am managing to keep a somewhat decent relationship in the works as well. He is british, a captain in the army and 6 ft 2in tall. I have plans to visit him in 4 short weeks and that is the light at the end of my deadlines tunnel.
IN short- Life is harder than it was before, but not the hardest it has ever been.
I am grateful for every second.
Sincerely
Olenka
Monday, August 29, 2011
3 weeks down, 43 to go!
Warp speed.
This is the only way to describe the pace at which Kenya is passing me by.
Today was the first day working in the new office. The place is much better than our original one and I bet it is just going to get better as they continue to make it look less like a hundred desks bunched together and more like a respectable business establishment. But there is something to be said about sitting across from your boss. It certainly makes me less likely to slack off and I can see how hard she works and how much she knows. I want to be her when I grow up. It's not like I would want to slack off either. There are so many things to do each day, so many meetings to attend and so many documents, powerpoints and videos to make but I feel like there is something to be said about the rush (sense of urgency- thanks TFA) that the company is driven by. Take for example our move. We started packing up exactly at 3pm on Friday and though this morning the place was far from perfect I had my laptop and was ready to work at 8 am. We even managed to squeeze in a pump-up/thank you session with our CEO who showed us how much the company has grown since its humble beginnings in a tourist office backroom.Even with the delicious Samosas that were part of our celebratory meal we were not off task for more than 30 minutes. Then, it was back to work, meetings, documents and improvements. A lovely thing to celebrate.
Although it may seem that most of my waking hours are spent trying to wrap my head around the School Manager training I do get to have a little rest and relaxation. Each weekend has been packed with delightful experiences. This Saturday I went to the Elephant Orphanage. This is a place where baby elephants all across Kenya are taken after being rescued and then they stay there for a number of years, always being attended to by their human foster dads that even sleep with them each night. After 3 or so years the elephants are taken to an area on the national reserve and a 5 year process of getting adopted by one of the elephant groups begins. It was very cute to see the elephants being fed with giant baby bottles and downing liters of formula in 18 seconds flat. The older set of elephants were quite playful and a little feisty. Though the highlight of the time was definitely when a 3 year old little kid got away from his parents and ran under the ropes to try and touch one of the elephants. The dad caught him just in time! One baby elephants got too friendly and passed the ropes the other way, playfully headbutting a few in the crowd.
Next, we went off to the St. Paul's Children's home where I played, chatted and chilled with some of the my favorite kids. One in particular put it upon himself to teach me some Kiswahili. Another great part to the day was when I bonded with a boy who had been raised by baboons for the first 4 years of his life. I was braiding yarn with some of the girls to make bracelets and he came over to give me the highly sought after- yet illusive- high five. Then, he sat down and engaged me by pulling on the yarn, SO I attempted, with the help of some other kids translating in swahili to teach him how to braid. It wasn't the most successful venture but it kept him occupied for at least 30 minutes and he was grinning at the tricky string and he tried to follow my instructions. Basically it was a huge success.
That night we went out. And it was awesome. I regained my awesome status by staying out till the wee hours of the morning and then getting up to go see some giraffes. That place was the first one that seemed a little too touristy for me because it was a tiny place and you had to pay 800 shillings (like $8.50) to pet some giraffes. It was quite serene and nice. I did have the pleasure of hugging the head of a giant giraffe but I was ready to go after about 7 minutes in the place, so though both of my animal adventures were a good time, neither was so amazing that I will be running back anytime soon.
I also finally got my room together a little bit more and read the instructions on my pepper spray. On Friday we found out that two people who were carpooling from work were held up at gunpoint on their way home. Luckily no one was hurt but it did remind me (especially since it was the same road I take home every day) that bad things can happen to good and careful people and even thought I have just started to feel more comfortable with my commute to work and walking around. It is sad how one moment you can feel very safe and in an instant information can make you feel uncomfortable and mistrusting of others. Really sad actually. I was walking home one day carrying 3 bags of groceries and obviously struggling after a 30 minute hike home. One man came up and offered to help me carry them and automatically I gave him a very blank stare and asked him to leave me alone. I was not happy with my behavior and decided that next time something like that happened I would first use a more polite way to avert unwanted attention but the fact that in a few short weeks I had become so hardened to approaches from strangers (who in Korea brought nothing but amusement when they attempted interactions). I hate to leave this post on this unpleasant note but I just want to say that I am fine and have a relatively worry free life and in a weird sense I appreciate the reminders that even though the illusion of safety can sometimes appear because of an array of positive interactions with locals it is still a dangerous place and it has to be treated as such.
That being said, Wednesday is a holiday and a Kenyan from my work is taking me to the Ngong hills where one must hire a guide with a gun for safety. Stay tuned...this is going to be good!
This is the only way to describe the pace at which Kenya is passing me by.
Today was the first day working in the new office. The place is much better than our original one and I bet it is just going to get better as they continue to make it look less like a hundred desks bunched together and more like a respectable business establishment. But there is something to be said about sitting across from your boss. It certainly makes me less likely to slack off and I can see how hard she works and how much she knows. I want to be her when I grow up. It's not like I would want to slack off either. There are so many things to do each day, so many meetings to attend and so many documents, powerpoints and videos to make but I feel like there is something to be said about the rush (sense of urgency- thanks TFA) that the company is driven by. Take for example our move. We started packing up exactly at 3pm on Friday and though this morning the place was far from perfect I had my laptop and was ready to work at 8 am. We even managed to squeeze in a pump-up/thank you session with our CEO who showed us how much the company has grown since its humble beginnings in a tourist office backroom.Even with the delicious Samosas that were part of our celebratory meal we were not off task for more than 30 minutes. Then, it was back to work, meetings, documents and improvements. A lovely thing to celebrate.
Although it may seem that most of my waking hours are spent trying to wrap my head around the School Manager training I do get to have a little rest and relaxation. Each weekend has been packed with delightful experiences. This Saturday I went to the Elephant Orphanage. This is a place where baby elephants all across Kenya are taken after being rescued and then they stay there for a number of years, always being attended to by their human foster dads that even sleep with them each night. After 3 or so years the elephants are taken to an area on the national reserve and a 5 year process of getting adopted by one of the elephant groups begins. It was very cute to see the elephants being fed with giant baby bottles and downing liters of formula in 18 seconds flat. The older set of elephants were quite playful and a little feisty. Though the highlight of the time was definitely when a 3 year old little kid got away from his parents and ran under the ropes to try and touch one of the elephants. The dad caught him just in time! One baby elephants got too friendly and passed the ropes the other way, playfully headbutting a few in the crowd.
Next, we went off to the St. Paul's Children's home where I played, chatted and chilled with some of the my favorite kids. One in particular put it upon himself to teach me some Kiswahili. Another great part to the day was when I bonded with a boy who had been raised by baboons for the first 4 years of his life. I was braiding yarn with some of the girls to make bracelets and he came over to give me the highly sought after- yet illusive- high five. Then, he sat down and engaged me by pulling on the yarn, SO I attempted, with the help of some other kids translating in swahili to teach him how to braid. It wasn't the most successful venture but it kept him occupied for at least 30 minutes and he was grinning at the tricky string and he tried to follow my instructions. Basically it was a huge success.
That night we went out. And it was awesome. I regained my awesome status by staying out till the wee hours of the morning and then getting up to go see some giraffes. That place was the first one that seemed a little too touristy for me because it was a tiny place and you had to pay 800 shillings (like $8.50) to pet some giraffes. It was quite serene and nice. I did have the pleasure of hugging the head of a giant giraffe but I was ready to go after about 7 minutes in the place, so though both of my animal adventures were a good time, neither was so amazing that I will be running back anytime soon.
I also finally got my room together a little bit more and read the instructions on my pepper spray. On Friday we found out that two people who were carpooling from work were held up at gunpoint on their way home. Luckily no one was hurt but it did remind me (especially since it was the same road I take home every day) that bad things can happen to good and careful people and even thought I have just started to feel more comfortable with my commute to work and walking around. It is sad how one moment you can feel very safe and in an instant information can make you feel uncomfortable and mistrusting of others. Really sad actually. I was walking home one day carrying 3 bags of groceries and obviously struggling after a 30 minute hike home. One man came up and offered to help me carry them and automatically I gave him a very blank stare and asked him to leave me alone. I was not happy with my behavior and decided that next time something like that happened I would first use a more polite way to avert unwanted attention but the fact that in a few short weeks I had become so hardened to approaches from strangers (who in Korea brought nothing but amusement when they attempted interactions). I hate to leave this post on this unpleasant note but I just want to say that I am fine and have a relatively worry free life and in a weird sense I appreciate the reminders that even though the illusion of safety can sometimes appear because of an array of positive interactions with locals it is still a dangerous place and it has to be treated as such.
That being said, Wednesday is a holiday and a Kenyan from my work is taking me to the Ngong hills where one must hire a guide with a gun for safety. Stay tuned...this is going to be good!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
I havent died, I've just gone off to AFRICA.
I feel like it has been ages since I have had the time to write anything. I am super busy here and it feels like I am always running out of time.
It may be that I spend the last year vacationing in Korea that I feel a certain surprise that my job now requires me to wake up at 5:30 in the morning, walk to town in darkness and get on a matatu by 6:30, arrive by 7 and bold out the door the second the clock strikes 4pm so I can get home around 5 pm. I realize that most people do this anyway but Korea really threw off my work ethic because life was just so darn easy there!
Next, fun things:
1. I moved into a house. It is a pretty sweet getup. I live with an expat from the UK and his 21 year old daughter. The place is across the street from the Ethiopian Embassy and the American U.N. memebers are also housed here. We also have a pool. It's ultra safe and we even have guard dogs patrolling at night. I have to fight the urge to pet them. The dogs, not the people from the UK silly!
2. Last weekend was badass. I hung out with orphans on a way cool children's day on Satuday and drove around a stunningly beautiful area near the game park reserve on the back of a motorcycle. Some antelopes/impalas/deerlike things ran across our path and I had a little bit of an "out of africa" moment.
3. I also went to this insane glass factory. The fact that this place exists in the middle of a beautiful desert and you have to cross an indiana jones style hanging bridge is enough to blow your mind. But let me give you another hit of awesome- the prices for slightly misshapen objects are dirt cheap and I got to see them make a wine glass from scratch then bought a few of it's brothers and sisters for pennies (about 100 pennies each!)wow! That day was awesome.
4. My job. Oh right, I gotta make some money while I am here and I think I have finally started to get into a groove here. The office is run so well and I am inspired by the hard work that the people around me put in. They are awesome and I want to be them when I grow up. I am talking mostly about my HOD who is incredible and I am learning so much from merely being in her presence.
5. The vegetables and fruit here are super cheap and taste amazing. WIN. Also, I found tofu. If only I can get a gym membership to a place close to here I am going to be a very happy camper for the duration of my stay.
peace out yo!
asante sana for reading!
It may be that I spend the last year vacationing in Korea that I feel a certain surprise that my job now requires me to wake up at 5:30 in the morning, walk to town in darkness and get on a matatu by 6:30, arrive by 7 and bold out the door the second the clock strikes 4pm so I can get home around 5 pm. I realize that most people do this anyway but Korea really threw off my work ethic because life was just so darn easy there!
Next, fun things:
1. I moved into a house. It is a pretty sweet getup. I live with an expat from the UK and his 21 year old daughter. The place is across the street from the Ethiopian Embassy and the American U.N. memebers are also housed here. We also have a pool. It's ultra safe and we even have guard dogs patrolling at night. I have to fight the urge to pet them. The dogs, not the people from the UK silly!
2. Last weekend was badass. I hung out with orphans on a way cool children's day on Satuday and drove around a stunningly beautiful area near the game park reserve on the back of a motorcycle. Some antelopes/impalas/deerlike things ran across our path and I had a little bit of an "out of africa" moment.
3. I also went to this insane glass factory. The fact that this place exists in the middle of a beautiful desert and you have to cross an indiana jones style hanging bridge is enough to blow your mind. But let me give you another hit of awesome- the prices for slightly misshapen objects are dirt cheap and I got to see them make a wine glass from scratch then bought a few of it's brothers and sisters for pennies (about 100 pennies each!)wow! That day was awesome.
4. My job. Oh right, I gotta make some money while I am here and I think I have finally started to get into a groove here. The office is run so well and I am inspired by the hard work that the people around me put in. They are awesome and I want to be them when I grow up. I am talking mostly about my HOD who is incredible and I am learning so much from merely being in her presence.
5. The vegetables and fruit here are super cheap and taste amazing. WIN. Also, I found tofu. If only I can get a gym membership to a place close to here I am going to be a very happy camper for the duration of my stay.
peace out yo!
asante sana for reading!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Kenya- Beautiful on the Inside
So
I have been here for almost a week and I feel like I can make a fair judgment of my current home city of Nairobi. I'll be frank. When I was driven to my hotel from the airport I was thinking to myself- what the f*** have I gotten myself into?
I just gave up a nice cozy life in Korea to come to this industry laden dust land with not a tree in sight. There were people, hundreds of people, migrating next to the road, a sight that was quite shocking because as opposed to the 4 ft ajumas that lined the streets of Daegu most of these people were 6ft tall and able bodied men. The ditches next to the road look like they could swallow you whole if you misplace your footing and the cow manure is a nice touch of texture and smell that will forever plague your shoe.
The hotel though was nice, my room has a fully functioning bathroom with hot water and I have always dreamed of having a mosquito net hanging over my bed ever since I spotted some many years back at IKEA so here’s to childhood wishes coming true.
Next, when I arose at the ungodly hour of 4 am thanks to jetlag I was able to indulge myself in a few hours of Kindle before heading to breakfast at 6 am where I dined on boiled eggs and toast with a few of my colleagues. I did not expect that the next 20 minutes would entail crossing the highway by running before oncoming traffic got to us, flagging down a van crammed with strangers that was going in our direction, jumping in and then paying a man a few shillings. Then after about 10 minutes on the matatu I was to be dropped off once again on the side of the road and run for my life before a semi made me into a pancake across 6 lanes of highway. Both in theory and in practice this approach of getting to work is ridiculous.
Though, I have to say now that I have ridden the matatu everyday for a week I come to realize that the other passengers are also hard working citizens on their way to work and that the matatus have certain routes that they take that actually makes them somewhat predictable.
I have also found that no matter how grungy, dilapidated and insanely dusty the outside of something is, the inside is undoubtedly going to exceed your expectation on cleanliness, atmosphere and service. This is why I think of Kenya as a book that you cannot judge by the cover. You cannot even judge it by the smell, because there is a certain oily, musky, dusty essence to most things and people here. You can only judge by the insides. The insides of matatus are clean compared to the dented and chipped paint exterior that they sport. The insides of mall and restaurants are right up there with an American Starbucks. The most important insides though, as those of the people that I have met in Kenya. There is something of a parental nature that I have felt from the people who I interact with. Anyone from the workers at my job to the man who guards my hotel and keeps me safe at night is welcoming and always ready for a conversation. Not so much a conversation as an exchange of stories. Also to be noted is that the tones most people speak with are the same as those used when telling a lullaby. So as this story of Kenya unfolds, told by the mother tongues of the people who I interact with and kindly translated for my inept ears I come to think of Kenya as a book that needs to be read for the quality and beauty of the content and not so much the illustrations on the cover.
I have been here for almost a week and I feel like I can make a fair judgment of my current home city of Nairobi. I'll be frank. When I was driven to my hotel from the airport I was thinking to myself- what the f*** have I gotten myself into?
I just gave up a nice cozy life in Korea to come to this industry laden dust land with not a tree in sight. There were people, hundreds of people, migrating next to the road, a sight that was quite shocking because as opposed to the 4 ft ajumas that lined the streets of Daegu most of these people were 6ft tall and able bodied men. The ditches next to the road look like they could swallow you whole if you misplace your footing and the cow manure is a nice touch of texture and smell that will forever plague your shoe.
The hotel though was nice, my room has a fully functioning bathroom with hot water and I have always dreamed of having a mosquito net hanging over my bed ever since I spotted some many years back at IKEA so here’s to childhood wishes coming true.
Next, when I arose at the ungodly hour of 4 am thanks to jetlag I was able to indulge myself in a few hours of Kindle before heading to breakfast at 6 am where I dined on boiled eggs and toast with a few of my colleagues. I did not expect that the next 20 minutes would entail crossing the highway by running before oncoming traffic got to us, flagging down a van crammed with strangers that was going in our direction, jumping in and then paying a man a few shillings. Then after about 10 minutes on the matatu I was to be dropped off once again on the side of the road and run for my life before a semi made me into a pancake across 6 lanes of highway. Both in theory and in practice this approach of getting to work is ridiculous.
Though, I have to say now that I have ridden the matatu everyday for a week I come to realize that the other passengers are also hard working citizens on their way to work and that the matatus have certain routes that they take that actually makes them somewhat predictable.
I have also found that no matter how grungy, dilapidated and insanely dusty the outside of something is, the inside is undoubtedly going to exceed your expectation on cleanliness, atmosphere and service. This is why I think of Kenya as a book that you cannot judge by the cover. You cannot even judge it by the smell, because there is a certain oily, musky, dusty essence to most things and people here. You can only judge by the insides. The insides of matatus are clean compared to the dented and chipped paint exterior that they sport. The insides of mall and restaurants are right up there with an American Starbucks. The most important insides though, as those of the people that I have met in Kenya. There is something of a parental nature that I have felt from the people who I interact with. Anyone from the workers at my job to the man who guards my hotel and keeps me safe at night is welcoming and always ready for a conversation. Not so much a conversation as an exchange of stories. Also to be noted is that the tones most people speak with are the same as those used when telling a lullaby. So as this story of Kenya unfolds, told by the mother tongues of the people who I interact with and kindly translated for my inept ears I come to think of Kenya as a book that needs to be read for the quality and beauty of the content and not so much the illustrations on the cover.
Friday, August 5, 2011
From America with Love
So the past few weeks have been a blur. Camp Fulbright came and went and I realized that I was not only teaching students but I was PROBABLY interacting with future CEOs, doctors, policy makers and possibly even actors. The quality of character, drive and cuteness that these kids possessed was the icing on the very delicious cake that was my year in Korea. I am so happy to look back on the memories of the camp and relish in the amazing moments that I shared with my students.
I knew that my stay in the states would be rushed and I knew I would have to work really hard to fit in everyone that I needed/wanted to see, but somehow, I made it happen. I had dates every day of the week to catch up with friends over food that had been inaccessible to me for the past year. If not inaccessible then just not having the right flavors or textures and I was so so SO happy to dunk some thick fries into a tub of thick ranch. Seeing my family was lovely and I realized how long it had been since we were a unit of 4. One of the best parts about coming home was the home itself. Projects on the house that my dad has just been starting when I left had come to completion and I had forgotten how decorated my house is with the artwork that my brother and I have created over the years. We are certainly not artists but our house is clad in a nice array of paintings, photos and trinkets that we have either made or collected over the years. Walking into my house is a visual sensation that jars memories and pours me over with a feeling of nostalgia. We sat at the dinner table the night I came home and over wine and delicious salmon chatted about life as if a year had not passed since our previous meal together. Afterward, I passed out presents and was able to make everyone happy with my gifts, I think even my impossible to shop for brother was amused by the trinkets that he got. It was a great homecoming indeed, starting with beautiful white roses and signs in Korean that I could not decipher and ending with a walk around the neighborhood with my dog.
The next few days were spent visiting with friends. I loved being able to catch up on life and was almost surprised at how effortlessly the conversations flowed given that some people I had not had much contact with for the past year. That just goes to show you how great my friends really are since the passage of time had no way of undermining the quality of our relationship. I had brought trinkets from Korea, either misspelled English or simply cutesy key chains that never failed to amuse. I also had several phone dates with people when our schedules could not mix. The last day was the hardest goodbye because my flight was less than 18 hours away and I was seeing my great friends for the first and final time. This quick trip to the states was much needed and it feels a little bit like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HrhsZ2kTqo
Another sleepless night due to jetlag and in 6 hours I will be on my way to my 3rd continent in 5 days.
peace and love
I knew that my stay in the states would be rushed and I knew I would have to work really hard to fit in everyone that I needed/wanted to see, but somehow, I made it happen. I had dates every day of the week to catch up with friends over food that had been inaccessible to me for the past year. If not inaccessible then just not having the right flavors or textures and I was so so SO happy to dunk some thick fries into a tub of thick ranch. Seeing my family was lovely and I realized how long it had been since we were a unit of 4. One of the best parts about coming home was the home itself. Projects on the house that my dad has just been starting when I left had come to completion and I had forgotten how decorated my house is with the artwork that my brother and I have created over the years. We are certainly not artists but our house is clad in a nice array of paintings, photos and trinkets that we have either made or collected over the years. Walking into my house is a visual sensation that jars memories and pours me over with a feeling of nostalgia. We sat at the dinner table the night I came home and over wine and delicious salmon chatted about life as if a year had not passed since our previous meal together. Afterward, I passed out presents and was able to make everyone happy with my gifts, I think even my impossible to shop for brother was amused by the trinkets that he got. It was a great homecoming indeed, starting with beautiful white roses and signs in Korean that I could not decipher and ending with a walk around the neighborhood with my dog.
The next few days were spent visiting with friends. I loved being able to catch up on life and was almost surprised at how effortlessly the conversations flowed given that some people I had not had much contact with for the past year. That just goes to show you how great my friends really are since the passage of time had no way of undermining the quality of our relationship. I had brought trinkets from Korea, either misspelled English or simply cutesy key chains that never failed to amuse. I also had several phone dates with people when our schedules could not mix. The last day was the hardest goodbye because my flight was less than 18 hours away and I was seeing my great friends for the first and final time. This quick trip to the states was much needed and it feels a little bit like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HrhsZ2kTqo
Another sleepless night due to jetlag and in 6 hours I will be on my way to my 3rd continent in 5 days.
peace and love
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Ravioli: My new favorite Breakfast
WELL, I wouldn't say FAVORITE. I wouldn't say healthy, or usual or rational or at all adivsed by any nutritionist. BUT, it is what I eat. I guess I set myself up for it too. When I moved into my second homestay I was able to make more choices about what I consumed. They asked for a list of foods ahead of time and since I was a vegetarian they were really curious to learn about it. We made an initial trip to Costco and I was told to go crazy and pack the cart with everything that I would eat. Ravioli made it into the cart! And it has made it onto my plate ever since. I only made one more trip with my host family to the magical land where foreign food is somewhat accessible and since I picked out Ravioli the second time as well it pretty much solidified it as a staple food in my Korean diet.
At first, I cooked the ravioli because my host mom was unfamiliar with how to make it but she watched and took diligent notes and was soon whipping them out like a pro. It tastes really good and so I enthusiastically praised her cooking and how delicious they turned out. THAT is probably how the ravioli is endind up on my breakfast plate. First, she cooked it every night of the week and I was eating at home...resulting in me going out more frequently because even though I do love the taste of ravioli, I do not love it every day of the week. Then, it seems like there was a lot of ravioli and only a few times that I was available to eat it for dinner...so it moved on to being an afterschool snack. THEN, the day finally came when it appeared at the breakfast table. Luckily, that is also the time that the giant bag from costco was exhausted and now I was back to a variety of food for breakfast (and dinner).
The phenomenon of my dear host mother giving the in access what I say that I like is also evident in her keeping a stock of roasted almonds on hand! (which is great because I can eat them whenever I want) and the also a pancake like sweet treat that has melted sugar and crushed peanuts on the inside (tastes AWESOME). I had one for snack, praised it, and then eat it for two consecutive days for afterschool snack and breakfast. :) The thing about living with a host family is that even though there are certain things that get to be pretty comfortable (seeing host family memebers in their underwear) telling them you would like to eat something else is not on the table. (get it?) So for the next 4 days (because I know we have a fresh batch of ravioli) I am undoing another button on my pants and consuming ravioli as breakfast, snack and possibly even dinner.
At first, I cooked the ravioli because my host mom was unfamiliar with how to make it but she watched and took diligent notes and was soon whipping them out like a pro. It tastes really good and so I enthusiastically praised her cooking and how delicious they turned out. THAT is probably how the ravioli is endind up on my breakfast plate. First, she cooked it every night of the week and I was eating at home...resulting in me going out more frequently because even though I do love the taste of ravioli, I do not love it every day of the week. Then, it seems like there was a lot of ravioli and only a few times that I was available to eat it for dinner...so it moved on to being an afterschool snack. THEN, the day finally came when it appeared at the breakfast table. Luckily, that is also the time that the giant bag from costco was exhausted and now I was back to a variety of food for breakfast (and dinner).
The phenomenon of my dear host mother giving the in access what I say that I like is also evident in her keeping a stock of roasted almonds on hand! (which is great because I can eat them whenever I want) and the also a pancake like sweet treat that has melted sugar and crushed peanuts on the inside (tastes AWESOME). I had one for snack, praised it, and then eat it for two consecutive days for afterschool snack and breakfast. :) The thing about living with a host family is that even though there are certain things that get to be pretty comfortable (seeing host family memebers in their underwear) telling them you would like to eat something else is not on the table. (get it?) So for the next 4 days (because I know we have a fresh batch of ravioli) I am undoing another button on my pants and consuming ravioli as breakfast, snack and possibly even dinner.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Model Behavior in EDEN
It was a friend’s last night in Korea so we headed off to Seoul on the long 4 hour train and arrived looking for some adventure.
Well, we went to the Ritz and got to experience something different. MODELS. Yes, the club that cost 30,000 to get into stayed true to it’s pricy form. It was packed with great looking Koreans and international models.
First we spotted a girl dancing wildly near a mirror and frowned upon her wayward ways. She did not have a drink in hand, but she was certainly getting a buzz from somewhere. Then, the real fun began, we made some friends, got shots poured into our mouth on the dance floor and were basically having a great time rocking out. Here is the thing, I enjoy a good time at club getting my groove on and I surround myself with people who also know how to balance having a good time while also staying in control. This night I was (for some reason) surprised to learn that not everyone can strike this balance and this is the story of one of the girls…
She was found by a Brazillian model and I guess found is not quite the right word for it, because all the Brazillian model saw was a hand on the floor peaking out from one of the bathroom stalls. I was standing in line for the bathroom behind the Brazillian model and she pointed out the hand to me and Security was in the girls bathroom immediately. They tried knocking on the door with no avail. Then the two guards pried the door open to reveal a passed out model in an ocean of her own puke that had saturated her dress and was drying crisply on her long curly hair. They tried to wake her and were looking around at the now large posse of models who were starring down at her to figure out which groups of friends she belonged to. However, sadly, no one would claim her. They all mumbled- not from my agency, or I’ve never seen her, she must be new and the most heartwrenching one- maybe she is 15. WHAT? The story continues…she had passed out while on the toilet and the men looked around for some girl to pull up her underwear. Again, none of the models offered to help and my friend was left to do the necessary yet unpleasant duty to making this passed out girl decent…while trying to hoover above the puked on floor that she was still sprawled out in. (I was in the bathroom while this took place) The next thing was even more disturbing…the security guards, still hesitant to touch her asked someone to check her pulse!!! WHAT THE F! This poor girl, with clearly no good friends, was on something that made her pass out mid-toilet break and now I was responsible for seeing if she was still alive???? Well, ok. So I checked her pulse by first lifting the heavy veil that was created from the puke and hair combo and feeling on her neck. There was indeed a pulse and so I gave the security guards the all OK! sign. Now with her not exposing genitalia and confirmed alive status the security guards felt it ok to pick her up and carry her out, as they did I questioned them with “hospital?” because it looked like she may need a little medical intervention. They did not reply and just carried her out. The restroom was abuzz for a few minutes after she left, but quickly my conversation with the models turned to whether or not I was a model (oh ladies, please! Do you see me passing out in toilets?) and then when that idea was shot down they asked me if I was an extra for the Olympics? (what the fuck were they smoking…I mean…thanks?) I wish the story ended there and I could assume happily that the girl got the help that she needed. Unfortunately this is not so, as I was leaving the club at 5 am I saw a lump on a couch near the entrance to the club near the coat rack…it was the same girl, still passed out, as if the club owners just expected whoever was responsible for her to grab her as they got their checked purses from the club lockers. Um, hello! When was the last time they checked her pulse? Oh Yeah, that would be me 3 hours ago….
Now this event did not deter me from partying like I usually do, because the way that I usually party ends with me heading out with all my clothes on and my wits intact, even if it happens that I leave the club at 6am. Clearly this is a sign of my oblivion but I thought that everyone partied with the same mindset as me, and just went home early. The models on the other hand continued to get wilder, in one instance a model was allowing one male model to play up her skirt while making out with another dude. In plain sight of everyone. Sickening. This was the first time that I had partied with the beautiful people and most likely the last because their party lifestyle is grounds for a party divorce. Though some were really sweet when I was chatting with them I noticed 3 things about this particular subset of human beings: They are taller than me and have legs that come to my belly button, they all have really really long hair that is free of chemical dye, they are heartless attention whores. The end.
Well, we went to the Ritz and got to experience something different. MODELS. Yes, the club that cost 30,000 to get into stayed true to it’s pricy form. It was packed with great looking Koreans and international models.
First we spotted a girl dancing wildly near a mirror and frowned upon her wayward ways. She did not have a drink in hand, but she was certainly getting a buzz from somewhere. Then, the real fun began, we made some friends, got shots poured into our mouth on the dance floor and were basically having a great time rocking out. Here is the thing, I enjoy a good time at club getting my groove on and I surround myself with people who also know how to balance having a good time while also staying in control. This night I was (for some reason) surprised to learn that not everyone can strike this balance and this is the story of one of the girls…
She was found by a Brazillian model and I guess found is not quite the right word for it, because all the Brazillian model saw was a hand on the floor peaking out from one of the bathroom stalls. I was standing in line for the bathroom behind the Brazillian model and she pointed out the hand to me and Security was in the girls bathroom immediately. They tried knocking on the door with no avail. Then the two guards pried the door open to reveal a passed out model in an ocean of her own puke that had saturated her dress and was drying crisply on her long curly hair. They tried to wake her and were looking around at the now large posse of models who were starring down at her to figure out which groups of friends she belonged to. However, sadly, no one would claim her. They all mumbled- not from my agency, or I’ve never seen her, she must be new and the most heartwrenching one- maybe she is 15. WHAT? The story continues…she had passed out while on the toilet and the men looked around for some girl to pull up her underwear. Again, none of the models offered to help and my friend was left to do the necessary yet unpleasant duty to making this passed out girl decent…while trying to hoover above the puked on floor that she was still sprawled out in. (I was in the bathroom while this took place) The next thing was even more disturbing…the security guards, still hesitant to touch her asked someone to check her pulse!!! WHAT THE F! This poor girl, with clearly no good friends, was on something that made her pass out mid-toilet break and now I was responsible for seeing if she was still alive???? Well, ok. So I checked her pulse by first lifting the heavy veil that was created from the puke and hair combo and feeling on her neck. There was indeed a pulse and so I gave the security guards the all OK! sign. Now with her not exposing genitalia and confirmed alive status the security guards felt it ok to pick her up and carry her out, as they did I questioned them with “hospital?” because it looked like she may need a little medical intervention. They did not reply and just carried her out. The restroom was abuzz for a few minutes after she left, but quickly my conversation with the models turned to whether or not I was a model (oh ladies, please! Do you see me passing out in toilets?) and then when that idea was shot down they asked me if I was an extra for the Olympics? (what the fuck were they smoking…I mean…thanks?) I wish the story ended there and I could assume happily that the girl got the help that she needed. Unfortunately this is not so, as I was leaving the club at 5 am I saw a lump on a couch near the entrance to the club near the coat rack…it was the same girl, still passed out, as if the club owners just expected whoever was responsible for her to grab her as they got their checked purses from the club lockers. Um, hello! When was the last time they checked her pulse? Oh Yeah, that would be me 3 hours ago….
Now this event did not deter me from partying like I usually do, because the way that I usually party ends with me heading out with all my clothes on and my wits intact, even if it happens that I leave the club at 6am. Clearly this is a sign of my oblivion but I thought that everyone partied with the same mindset as me, and just went home early. The models on the other hand continued to get wilder, in one instance a model was allowing one male model to play up her skirt while making out with another dude. In plain sight of everyone. Sickening. This was the first time that I had partied with the beautiful people and most likely the last because their party lifestyle is grounds for a party divorce. Though some were really sweet when I was chatting with them I noticed 3 things about this particular subset of human beings: They are taller than me and have legs that come to my belly button, they all have really really long hair that is free of chemical dye, they are heartless attention whores. The end.
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