December was magical

December was actually, actually magical. 

Between restful Sundays, hot chocolate, snow fall, snowflake making, plane rides, and ice skating, December was indeed full. 

Two of my favorite times happened within the last week, so that shows you how short my memory is and how full December was. 

Last Sunday, Air Force friend J took us up in a little Cesna. It was such an awesome experience seeing Korea from above. I was also surprised with a little zero gravity action when phones started floating backwards. Seriously, everyone should do it once and I should totally be an astronaut. The landscape was stunningly snowy even though I couldn't feel my toes.

My second favorite time was on Christmas Eve, Tuesday, when we went ice skating in Seoul in front of City Hall. It was joyful and cheerful and Christmassy and just what I needed for this lonely holiday. To be with a group of uprooted foreigners in a snowy wonderland with a big Christmas tree was perfect. As good as it could have gotten (although I would've given just about anything to be home with family). 

Friends and family, I missed you all a lot this week but am so looking forward to seeing you all soon!

As I procrastinate from packing, Nim keeps attacking my feet, fingers, arms, legs, ears, and occasionally my nose. I'll still miss him and his kookiness, he has kept great company over the last few months (if a little abusive). Luckily, he'll be in the hands of two trustworthy friends to keep him entertained while I'm gone (hopefully he won't get too fat). 

Tomorrow morning, I leave from Cheonan on the 5:30am bus to the airport. From Gimpo, I fly to Beijing, and from Beijing, I fly to Chicago. I am so excited to be home for a bit and to soak up all the love and warmth of my humans. Also, I master the art of time travel this weekend as I fly out Saturday at 9:20am and arrive in Chicago at noon. Thanks Hermione, for the time turner. 

BE HOME SO SOON.  

That Darn Cat

Thursday, November 28th (Wednesday back home) was a rough, rough day. 

It was hard holding myself together at school. The kids were so happy, and I wanted to be happy with them, but even the thought of being happy made me sick. How could I smile when I had lost one of my best friends? Now, it may seem like I'm being a bit melodramatic, he was a cat after all. But he spent 13 years with my family and it's hard to remember a time when he wasn't there. He lived in the milk house in the backyard, he traveled looong journeys up north where he wouldn't stop meowing, and he spent countless days on the screened-in porch on the shores of Lake Mich. He was family. 

The first night was full of tears, but afterwards I came to realize he had had a very full and dramatic life. And it made me smile looking at pictures and remembering his antics. As a tribute to this darling boy, I thought I'd share thirteen of my favorite memories of him. 

1. The first night we had him, we went out to the milk house where he and his sister, Angel, lived to show our Aunt and Uncle. Upon arrival, we realized that only Angel was present at our gathering. In desperation we began seeking high and low for the little Tumbleweed when we heard a mewing coming from somewhere near the door. The little rascal had pulled the insulation out of the wall and then had fallen down it (tumbled, if you will). Dad had to tear the wall open to get him out (he was NOT happy about it..). And we officially welcomed Tumbleweed and Angel into our family.

2. He was a brave cat. He would follow Marshall and I down the slide (on his own, mind you) and he even went sledding with us on the backyard (we would put him on our laps in an inflatable sled and go on our merry way!). Both kitties also enjoyed climbing up to the tree house with us (two-story tree house toooo high in the tree). I still think he should've been on America's Funniest Home Videos.

3. This summer, I was painting a bench for Aunt Christy and he kept walking through my purple paint until his paws were all purple and he left purple paw prints wherever he went. 

4. He always used to sit and sleep on the bird feeder outside the backdoor waiting for us to come out and see him. When he got overly desperate, he would climb the trellis and meow through the skylight until he got our attention. 

5. Burrito kitty. He was so good-natured he would let us swaddle him in a towel and hold him like a baby for hours. 

6. Trips up north when he would meow for 4 hours straight. (And the time we tranquilized him and he was loopy for hours and kept falling off things). Sitting on the screened-in porch with him reading books in the early morning, in the afternoon, and at night. 

7. When you would hold him like a baby and he would stretchhhh all the way to the ground if he could. 

8. When I would read outside and he thought his place was on top of my book. 

9. Watching river monsters together. 

10. The number of times we found him in other people's cars or houses... he was the friendly neighborhood cat. 

11. While at school and in Korea, I skyped him and talked to him on the phone. 

12. His good taste in beverages: we shared Biggby and beer numerous times. 

13. He was a dog stuck in a cat's body and would come when he was called even if he was in Montessori or in the far back yard. His purring could stop traffic. He was constantly purring and it was incredibly loud. I will miss his purring most. 

I love you, Tumbies. 

Bittersweet

I'm re-reading Bittersweet, by Shauna Niequist because, well, life in Korea is bitter and it's sweet. There are times I love it here. I love the public transportation system, I love being brave enough to go all the way to Seoul and wander around that massive city on my own, I love being able to navigate, I love being able to solo-travel, I love having a place of my own to decorate, I love having no one to answer to. But there are the times when living here is so so bitter I could drop everything and leave. There are times when I realize I'm completely alone, there are times when I realize I kind of have a church, but I don't have a church family or a church community. There are times when I bitterly realize the Koreans put sugar in EVERYTHING and it makes even my lattes too sweet. Last week, all I wanted to do was be with my family and say goodbye to my best-friend-cat, but I could only say goodbye over skype. There are times when I need to talk to my friends back home and I can't because it's the middle of the night there. There are times when I don't want to even try making friends here because I already have friends back home. There are times when the sight of a trash can brings me JOY because they are so few and far between. Life here is bitter, but life here is sweet.

Things that have stood out to me during my re-reading, but I'm only on page 81 of 249.

"

Bittersweet is the idea that in all things there is both something broken and something beautiful, that there is a sliver of lightness on even the darkest of nights, a shadow of hope in every heartbreak, and that rejoicing is no less rich when it contains a splinter of sadness.

This is what I've come to believe about change: it's good in the way that childbirth is good, and heartbreak is good, and failure is good. By that I mean that it's incredibly painful, exponentially more so if you fight it, and also that it has the potential to open you up, to open life up, to deliver you right into the palm of God's hand, which is where you wanted to be all along, except that you were too busy pushing and pulling your life into exactly what you thought it should be. So this is the work I'm doing now, and the work I invite you into: when life is sweet, say thank you and and celebrate, and when life is bitter, say thank you and grow.

The smell of dirt and herbs seemed like the essence of life, something I needed desperately.

And this is what Denise told me: she said it's not hard to decide what you want your life to be about. What's hard, she said, is figuring out what you're willing to give up in order to do the things you really care about.

I write and read, in airports and hotel rooms and coffee shops and in the little blue room in our house. I read novels and essays and magazines and cookbooks and the Bible,  and I couldn't live well without those things.

Because there really is nothing like good friends, like the sounds of their laughter and the tones of their voices and the things they teach us in the quietest, smallest moments.

There's something so healing about those quiet moments at the table, where everyone's mouth - or mind or heart - is full, when you feel connected and nourished and content, even if it's just for a split second.

Sometimes we have to leave home in order to find out what we left there, and why it matters so much.

That's why travel is so important, among other reasons: to get far enough away from our everyday lives to see those lives with new clarity. When you're literally on the other side of the world, when you're under the silent sea, watching a bright, silent world of fish and coral, when you're staying up at a sky so bright and dense with stars it makes you gasp, it's in those moments that you begin to see the fullness of your life, the possibility that still prevails, that always prevails.

"

There's the good and there's the bad, but they compose this journey I'm calling an adventure. I'm growing. And it's not always pretty. There are parts that are ugly and unexpected. There are parts of me I didn't know existed. There are parts that are beautiful. There are parts that are blooming. And there are parts I desperately need to out grow.

Thank `1q (Nim chose the title)

Thankful

Lately, I've really been trying to notice the little things I'm grateful for that might normally slip my mind. The flannel sheets Mom sent are a God-send. Nimbus and I cozy up in them every night and they  are wonderful. Nim likes to snuggle up under the covers (because I haven't turned the heat on yet), but I think he likes cuddling too (when he's not biting me). 

Pleasant bus drivers are a day-changer. This week Tuesday on the way to school and from school we had the awesome bus driver who greets every single one of his passengers. And he says goodbye. He is so joyful. Seeing his joy makes me want to be that way. Even when you do the same thing every day all day, you can still be joyful and it's infectious. Reminder: kindness is always free. 

And through these thoughts, I started thinking about why I needed to get away from Michigan. Michigan held everything I loved: dear ones, fall, Lake Michigan, Tumbleweed, family, everything. Leaving was about defining myself away from things that I had previously been defined by my entire life. I had to start with a clean slate here, no one knew me, no one knew what Michigan was like (although I talk about it enough), or how my friends and I were. I had to think a lot about what was going to define me to these people I was meeting for the first time. Ever. But being so far away and so alone, I realized (and am still realizing) just how much my identity is found completely in God. 

It is He who defines me and my every action. It is because of Him I am able to go about my day with a cheerful and grateful and joyful heart (kind of like the bus driver). 

Aunt Christy bops over from Japan

Last Friday, I met Aunt Christy (visitor #2!) at our hotel in Gangnam. We ate dinner there and had an early night because we'd both had a day of travel. We woke up early (5:30) the next morning and took a taxi to the U.S.O. for our trip to the DMZ!! 

The DMZ is a 2km wide and 241km long stretch that is a no-man's-land between North and South Korea. It is very fortified and the wildlife has flourished there. It is an active war zone. There are two villages within the boundaries, one belongs to the North and one to the South. They are called Freedom village and Propaganda village. Freedom village, which belongs to the South, has actual inhabitants and they farm the land within the DMZ. Propaganda village belongs to the North and is fake. We went to the joint security area (JSA) first and saw North Korea and a soldier across the line that defines where North Korea ends and South Korea begins. We went into the conference room that belongs to South Korea (it's bright blue, while North Korea's buildings are grey). I actually stood in North Korea. I had been so excited and actually being there was crazy. I got nervous after they told us about all the instances in the past (80's) when N.K. has launched surprise attacks or Russians try to defect. Put it into perspective a lot more than I had before when preparing to go. These soldiers stand face-to-face with their enemies every day. We heard gunfire in the distance but apparently it was at a North Korean firing range and they were "out of range." Uhhh.. yeah. 

We went from there to Dorasan, the last train stop before North Korea. We ate bimimbap for lunch there. Bimimbap is a bowl with rice, egg, and vegetables all mixed together with a red pepper paste on top. Next, we went to the Dora observatory where we could look through platform binoculars into North Korea. Absolutely no pictures passed the yellow line (which was ten yards from the view finders), in case our troops were on patrol. Finally, we went to the third tunnel (of four) that N.K. has dug. This one actually reached the south side of the DMZ that belongs to S. Korea. We walked down the 11deg decline into the tunnel, it was long and hard work to come back up. Seoul is not that far away from North Korea.. only about 50km. 

We took the bus back to the U.S.O. and posted up in a coffee shop to regain energy . It was decorated for Christmas and I felt like I was home. We then took the subway to city hall and wandered around the lantern fest eating street food again. We found a book store and I bought a book because I needed it. 

The next morning, we had breakfast at Tom N Toms then went to Yoido, the biggest church in the world. 12 services a week. 12 orchestras. 12 choirs. 12,000 in my service alone. I was in awe (an orchestra!!). And I had nice big headphones for a translation. If you give them 24 hours notice, they can have any language translation for you. And they have a haven called Prayer Mountain that I'm going to have to try. I took Aunt Christy back to the airport via the train and we said our goodbyes.

I met K at Seoul station on the way back, we got some Christmas lattes from Starbucks and went on a walk catching up. Somehow we walked all the way to Namsan tower (almost 2 miles). The road was perfectly fall and I thank God for his artistic hand. The tower itself was cool, too. You could see so far in every direction and they told you how far it was to other cities on the windows (ex. Anchorage, AK). Then we walked back, said goodbye and I ate a tuna salad rice ball for dinner before taking the KTX home. We had our first rain-slush-snow that night.

Monday: went to Cheonan and met some (awesome) new girls at a coffee shop (we planned to meet there, I didn't just run into them). We got ear piercings and I laughed so much. They know a girl in my complex and go to the international church I go to. We're seeing Hunger Games 2 on Monday! 

Thank you, Jesus. I needed community.
ALSO - IT SNOWED MONDAY, NOVEMBER 18.

What I figured out: South Koreans are not allowed to go to the DMZ unless they are very special. And Chinese tourists can visit from both sides (in theory, at least).