Dancin’ Like a Sneaker
The present is a gift. Live for the moment. Be here, be now.
As a semi-professional daydreamer it’s harder done than said. It’s not that I’m escaping the present. It’s that in my daydream world the future can be just oh-so-enticing. There’s so much to look forward to; so much to hope for, to work for, to be distracted by; so many reasons to end prepositions on. The present is wonderful. But sometimes the future is even more intoxicating with its adventurous ambiguity.
Yet lately I find that the present is winning out. Even I am more and more often knocked back from Cloud World to breathe in the scooter smoke and roasting chicken moments that are Now.
And it’s wonderful.
Things I Love and Hate about Vietnam
Living in Vietnam as an expat is like being in a dysfunctional relationship. Just as you snuggle up to its sunny charm, it cuts the power, lets the rats run loose and throws in a typhoon to boot. But when you’ve finally had enough and are set to leave with the kids, it begs you to stay with lovely days at the beach and unexpected flowers from neighbors. My love/ hate relationship with my temporary home leaves me frustrated and happy. And also confused. I can’t figure out why the things I hate about Vietnam are the same things I love.
Here are a few.
Every Night is Biker Night
Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes: Keeping Up with Covering Up
In Vietnam, shoulders are not for ladies. In Cambodia, knees must be covered to enter the temples. In Malaysia it’s the head that offends in mosques. And in Singapore, closed-toe shoes signify you’re one to be taken seriously. Ladies, am I the only one confused by what parts to keep under wraps?
Cambodia Travel Pictures
Cambodia is a difficult place to describe. Its beauty is tremendous. And so is its poverty. Siem Reap took me back hundreds of years to mystical sort of place. Phnom Penh brought me back into a present where people continue to struggle. The images I have of Camboida are good, bad and definitely unforgettable. Here are a few.
Cambodia, Country of Mosts
Cambodia is in a perpetual state of mood swings. It’s an up-and-down sort of place that teases away any sense of normalcy with its extremes. After traveling through Cambodia last month I fail to find a pretty paper box to wrap it up in. Just when you want to call it beautiful, it hurls a city slum at you. Just when you think it’s relaxing, a tuk-tuk plows you over. The only simple way I can sum up Cambodia is to say that it is a country of “most”; the most exotic, the most poor, the most opulent far past, the most horrific recent history, the most gracious people, the most heart-breaking stories. Cambodia manages to win most categories for most good and most bad.
Beer Belly Belgium
Belgium, you little biscuit. You grew on me like a nice, big beer gut. I met you lukewarm, and left in love. Your people, your countryside, canals and, of course, your beer have made you a lifetime friend.
For those of you considering growing your own beer belly in Belgium, and maybe learning, like, one new thing about the World Wars, here’s where I highly recommend you go.
The Biggest Storm in the World: Typhoon Nari Through Third Graders’ Eyes
Last week Typhoon Nari came to Danang. JD and I were lucky and suffered little more than some lost plants. Even still, it was a proper scary night that involved me sleeping in my scooter helmet. I wasn’t the only one who was nervous. Here to tell you what a typhoon is really like in their own, unedited words, are my third grade students.
That day I was so scary. I don’t like storm. My house dore is broke. It is heavy. I can’t hold it. I’m very scary. My house got water in it. The wind was so big. My house broke.
Books and Maps
Nerds are wonderful.
After years of trying to pretend to be cooler than I am, I have come to love my own nerd-ity. It might just be that I like books more than cheerleading and buy more maps than cute shoes. I often don’t brush my hair thoroughly and lack coordination in all forms. I’m bad at sports, worse at driving and often a miss at witty conversation. Maybe that’s why Travel and I get along so well.
Deauville-Trouville-Adjacent “Fleurs”
There’s nowhere like Normandy.
This northern corner of France sucked us in like flies to a Venus Fly Trap. We went expecting to relax in the sun, surrounded by pretty flowers. Instead we got an unforgettable trip through one of the most welcoming, historical and daydream-inspiring places I’ve ever met.
In short, here’s where we went and why we loved it.
Mont Saint Michel: Deliciously Scary in Dusk and Dark
Still riding from the high of Paris, Mom and I headed deeper into the heart of our beloved France to a little place called Normandy. We went armed with plans to read war memoirs, practice our three words of French and sip wine on rocky beaches.
We got it all. Holy cow, France! Once again in a seven dwarves’ Dopey sort of way, we were swept up into the intoxicating prance of All Things French.
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