rescued. April 26, 2009

 our moguls came! the representative for our state senators, Justin Masterson a boston red sox pitcher, and news media all showed up, so 

we were officially rescued. 

the point of the rescue was to peacefully raise awareness and gather support from our government representatives to help end one of africa’s longest wars. 

starting at a park in the city designated the “abduction site”,  we were officially abducted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

we walked in roped groups through the city to the “LRA camp”.

once in the commons outside of the state house (the LRA camp), we wrote letters to our senators and waited for our moguls to arrive and officially rescue us. we also wrote notes to current LRA abducted child soldiers.

one of the highlights of the night was to hear the story of Charles, a former LRA abducted child solider. afterwards i was able to introduce myself and talk with him. what a horrific, heart breaking situation, but how incredible that he was able to get away from the LRA and come to America to start a new life. when a ‘child’ is standing in front of us, in the flesh, the value of that life becomes so inescapably undeniable.  it’s impossible to be indifferent when you are literally  touching the hands and looking into the eyes of someone who has suffered in ways that i know that i can never fully comprehend. when we wrote letters to these children, whose ears  i hope and pray, they will one day be able to reach…

i want you to know that some of the words that people wrote were so beautiful.  we told them that they are not forgotten- we will not let them be invisible to the world,  and we were fighting for them, so that one day like us, and like charles, they too can be free. 

invisible children. updater! April 24, 2009

hey, guess what i saw when i was reading/watching the news today?

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/30376955#30376955

the rescue, is happening tomorrow! can’t wait to tell you all how it goes…

go vegan! April 22, 2009

check out my new page. ”Go Vegan!”

there’s a lot of debate going on apparently. enjoy!

April 21, 2009

i regret
that we did not
together
rise early
and watch the ocean

alone
i let the mist
rest on my face
and cling to the fine strands of hair
that are being tossed back and forth
covering my eyes, nose mouth.

blown by the wind.

the waves explode
in rhythm
collapsing onto the
soaked sand;
draining back to their source

they drag my thoughts out to sea.

i consider the fact
that i am incredibly small
in the scheme of things

the scheme of
the ocean
distance
sadness
people
you

and the position of
myself
in the midst of it all.

i regret
that we did not
together
rise early
and watch the ocean

there is awe here
and i wonder if this place
could have also

dragged your
hopeless thoughts
out to sea.

mankey shirt. April 17, 2009

today on the way to school, ben asks me, “so what does mankey mean anyway?” apparently when he asked me how my LRA shirt was holding up, i told him it was mankey. the adjective “mankey”, is reserved for special use. going to the gym and getting smelly and sweaty, is really undeserving of the designation mankey. there have been few times when i can say i have felt truly mankey, and they usually were within the context of traveling in a developing country or hiking for days in extreme heat with no access to a shower…love it, but mankey all the same. my shirt hasn’t been visiting any third world countries. so no worries, it’s relativity clean, minus the mysterious pink stain and the curry spot under the purple L. also, even though i have been washing it… people, if you wear a shirt pretty much every day for 21 days straight…it becomes real stretched out. so that twinge of discomfort or minor distress that is felt when you are truly feeling mankey is the same feeling i get when i describe my shirt.

which brings me to the next point:

wearing these same two shirts everyday has been hard. and maybe in some way, that should be embarrassing to admit. daily, when i wake up and pull the shirt over my head once again

i feel shallow.

real shallow. because at that moment, it was the last shirt i wanted to see. and all my shirt-wearing and caring could not really measure up to my own shallowness. so though i only have 8 days left,  i will try to remain committed to voicing the issues and then, though they may be small ways, i will continue to do something tangible. 

hellen keller once said, “Until the great mass of the people shall be filled with a sense of responsibility for each others welfare, social justice can never be attained”. Luis Moreno-Ocampo, who is the chief prosecutor for the international criminal court, pointed out that people aren’t interested in Uganda, or the Achooli’s. These people don’t have anything: no oil, there is nothing powerful to win, or threat to our safety, i might add. if we as fellow citizens of this earth can’t be driven by money or power, we have to be driven by a sense of responsibility that stems from a basic human understanding of the crime of suffering and injustice.  please clink on my linkage below and watch the video and try to go to the resuce if there is one near you. it’s next weekend. if you can’t go, visit the invisible children website and become more educated about the issues.

http://behindthescenes.invisiblechildren.com/post/96932852/it-will-work-it-must?utm_source=email&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=willitworkemail

stride update. April 16, 2009

so it’s been nearly eight months since my tragic little injury, that kept me from doing one of the things i love the most-

running.

if you’ll recall from my september-ish, posts, i was full of much lamenting, mourning, grieving…whatever. i really missed running in a big way, and i literally went through the process in stages. first there was the denial- yes i actually kept running on it- telling myself that i just had a REALLY stiff muscle, until i was limping severely and unable to walk like a normal person. it was mildly embarrassing.  then, there was the anger. i tried to replace running with swimming, but i found that with every stroke, i’d feel myself hating the water even more, only because i felt like i didn’t choose swimming, it was one of the only exercises i could manage, so swimming chose me.

((i still have my swimming pass. it’s definitely not my favorite way to get my heart moving, but i no longer glare at the pool before i jump in.))

then there was grief- it sucked. when my roommate ran the marathon that we were both signed up for, i think for the first time in my adult life, i went to bed at 7:00, (after sleeping the entire afternoon) because i hated the day and i wanted it to end.

after that, came acceptance, well lets call it a  kind of “begrudging mild acceptance”- and then it was back to the pool for laps.

so anyway, here i am, as i said nearly eight months later. i’ve taken up running again, though very, very slowly- and this time, i’m actually learning some lessons.

first, running doesn’t define me. i guess outward accomplishments never really should- i’d like to think that we’re all more accurately “defined”, if we are defined by the inward person. but, i wasn’t thinking about that. instead, i felt somehow defined for my affinity for running long distances. i liked that i could wake up way too early, lace up my shoes and know that thirteen miles was no big deal. i liked that people thought it was so crazy that i could run like that, because for me, it was easy and i loved the feeling of release and strength it gave my body and mind. part of running defining me was that i liked that it made me sort of ‘unique’, and being drawn the unique-ity of uniqueness is probably pretty typical- so not really unique at all. so while i spend more time walking or swimming, i’ve tried to be more intentional about being introspecitve and ponder how my inward person is defining me.

second, i’m learning some self control. this sounds ridiculous… maybe. but if you’re a runner, you may be able to relate. when i first started running again a few months ago, i was allowed to run in five minute intervals. basically i spent a lot of time walking in my running shoes. more than anything, i wanted to keep on going and not stop when i hit my five minutes. it just was so unfulfilling somehow, and terribly unfair. but as strong as my will was to run i knew that  if i ever wanted my stride back, i had to limit myself. i never run everyday anymore, and i try to stay off of pavement when i can. it’s hard, especially when i think about how things used to be, but now, it’s just not worth it.

and last, i’m learning to respect my body. admit it, when you’re young and everything works well, you just take advantage of it. we don’t think about our achy muscles and problem backs that will cause us pain in our 40’s when we’re in our 20’s.  not only am i guilty of probably causing my own injury by not being more careful, but i am also guilty of doing stupid things like walking in crappy shoes that kill my feet, just because they’re cute. i want to be able to summit mt rainer,  trek the himalayas, and trek the andes. I want to explore new zealand, finish the israelli trail, backpack in scotland, and hike the appalachian trail… and believe it or not, i’ll probably not be in my 20’s, when many of my trekking dreams are realized.

so… my incentive is also someday.

anyhow, there is my little update on running. two weeks ago i ran three miles on a nice soft wooded trail and it felt great and i enjoyed the trees and the sounds of left over fall leaves, crunching under my feet.

i still love running and some days, especially when the sun is bright, i can’t wait to get out and move, the difference is the self awarness and respect i’ve gained from my limitations.

read me. April 14, 2009

“Human nature will not flourish, any m ore than a potato, if it be planted and replanted, for too long a series of generation, in the same worn-out soil. My children have had other birthplaces, and, so far as their fortunes may be within my control, shall strike their roots into unaccustomed earth.”

-Nathaniel Hawthorne

i’ve been reading jhumpa lahiri’s book “unaccustomed earth” this week. it’s been an intersting read. definitely not your feel good, laugh out loud, kind of book. it’s a compilation of eight short stories which give accounts from just about every perspective, of being torn between being “american” and being bengali at the same time. it’s a book about ignorance, disappointment,  betrayal, expectations, love, death, grief, and greed. it’s depressing. but i’m intrigued anyway. i guess most of the intriguing stories are that way…depressing, raw, and real.

as i was reading i kept thinking back to nathanial hawthorne’s quote that prefaces the stories that followed. when i opened this book and read it, i thought “exactly!” but i’m thinking the book isn’t a reinforcement of the beauty of this idea. though, hawthorne’s qoute still resonates with me, i am sobered by the reality of the sacrifce that comes with planting potatoes in new soil. i’m the second generation in my familys uprooting, and i must admit, though i am thankful for the opportunities being “american” has afforded me, there is a loss that can not be recompensed when ones culture is detached, taken, or lost in some way. not that everyone’s experience is the same, but being in america, (depending on where you’re from, the extreme depends on your geographical location!) i’ve been asked if i was “even born here”, and asked if i was everything from: chinese to iranian, israeli, puerto rican, phillipino, native american, and most recently eastern european. weird! i know. but going to korea, with only half asian eyes that are green and slightly frizzy brown hair, as opposed to dark almond eyes, and sleek black hair- not to mention i only can speak about 6 words in korean… i definitely stood out. also weird situation.

not that this is all negative, my experience, though sad in some respects is also unique and beautiful and privileged in it’s own way. i mean i grew up eating kimchee and our house smelled like ginger and spices and the first time i had subway i was 18. when i go home i get served seaweed soup… don’t turn your nose at me. it’s good.

unacustomed earth.

i can’t wait to travel to scotland and ireland some day. the only physical thing i’ll have in common with that part of my heritage is my last name and green eyes.

oh unacustomed earth.

oh potatoes.

why ten halves equal one. April 3, 2009

tonight, i was on a flight back to washington- and people, i was soooo happy. i was the kind of happy where when i peered out of my taxi-ing flight and saw that familiar washington drizzle on the windows…i deemed it glorious and then proceeded to deplane with an extra lightness in my step… a ’skip’ if you will.  …and then there was the cheese… the kind where you grin from ear to ear and people look at you, and maybe you should be embarrassed, but you’re not because you’re happy- that kind of cheese.

listening to my ipod, and walking through the airport, anticipating seeing my much beloved and missed bff, i thought about what “home” really means to me, and if i was so happy because actually even though i find myself circumventing the globe and often find my self feeling home-less in the nomadic sense (and for the most part liking it that way), i can’t deny that the pacific northwest always holds 1/2 of my heart.

but on that note…or fraction rather… i must say, though i am pretty  much overjoyed to be here and look forward to spending time with my friends before moving back to the east coast- washington, as fabulously green and raindroppy as it is… the 1/2 just doesn’t quite cut it.

the reason is…

people.

lots of people are holding halves of my heart for different reasons. so even though i’m home here, i’m home with the other people, who at present, also lay claim to the 1/2.

my “halves” (in alphabetical order )

bekah- my lovely crazy half. many a morning have we spent, cracking up at her english accents and  shouting “AHHH” while we point to the random shapes in the “butter” or  “AHHH” look at our horrendous and CUTE(???) outfit- horrendously-cute-outfit! or “AHH!! we’re late again!” probably due to our morning ritual of too much energy REAL early. you and me, “shake the frame of this house, distress the wood make it shout ahh, ahhh, ah ah.. ah, ahh, ah ahh”

jeff- or “yoffe”, as in ‘yoffe toffe’ (i wish i could write that in hebrew!) yoffe is a happa, meaning he is one half asian of any sort, and the sort of one half asian that yoffe happens to be is the same one half asian that i happen to be,  so yoffe and i make a whole korean(!) – although the both of us are (sadly) probably two of the most unkorean-happas we know. though, yoffe more so then me…but i digress…

jenni- my sister half and political and theological half… we can talk anything and everything and we do. pretty much everyday. even if it’s as menial as, “so it’s raining right now and i miss you” or never ending conversations on the intersection of faith and politics and our views. we are so alike. there’s so much debate and disagreement in politics and theology, so it’s refreshing… truly, to be able to have someone get where you’re coming from and who really gets you in general. also we somehow started a small collection of best friend necklaces. yup, just like elementary school… so there is a lot of literal 1/2 “best” or “friends” in our collection of jewelry.

mya- my other sister half /history/childhood half. we never change. we will always misplace our keys, and wallets… i misplaced my computer the other day. how this happens, i’m not sure, but what i do know is that like it or not, that’s how we roll. we have mucho history, from dartboards and hating each other, then being pretty much the same person for the longest time- (except you were tall and black and i was short and korean) to actually, literally, becoming responsible adults. growing up, we were like twins and  in a lot of ways we still are. i think it will always be like this.

neil- yes, you get to be on my list because you are the only other washingtonian in my life at present- in massachutes, that is.  i love how when i’m super home sick and more than 3,000 miles away from my evergreens and puget sound, i know that neil  can remember the drizzley rain, or how majestic doesn’t even begin to describe the look of mt rainer when the clouds part, or the freshest smell of  pacific ocean air… when i know that someone else knows, i don’t feel so far away. also, he knows what ‘u-dubb’ means, and where the butt hole of washington is located (i resent this neil). also he is the only other person that knows what a safeway is. this to me, is amazing. so for now neil, you are my washington half.

sabrina- you are my 1/2 hippie. i think this is reminiscent to the idea of jeff being my 1/2 korean half. alone, you and i both are only sort of hippies- in the stereotypical sense of that word… i mean, we shave our armpits and legs and we don’t have dreadlocks. but maybe somehow combined we make almost a whole hippie. however, i never got to tell you all about turkey. after that experience, i was utterly convinced, that though you were my other half hippie, that if we combined our 1/2’s,  we would really only form about 1/3 of a hippie. i know, i know, the math is real bad. but trust me, it’s true.

shlomy- my vegan foodie half. mmmm… vegan and yes, gluten free: pizza, lasagna, macaroni and ‘cheese’, brownies and ‘ice cream’, chocolate cake with coconut, and thanks to bekah- chapatti! is this shallow? i promise it’s not. i love food, so this half is quite important. you and i see eye to eye on so many levels, but that doesn’t mean we agree on everything. i love the intellectual stimulation and spritual challenge that comes with knowing you. hey, do you think if me you and sabrina combined, we’d form one hippie? …just a thought.

summer- my intellectual half, also sister-like. one of our favorite things sending each other poems before anyone else gets to read them, and sometimes no one else reads them except for us. we’re usually nice on our critique… that is unless, summer throws in really big words, that real people don’t actually use! summer is freaking intelligent, and when she insists that i am too, she is one of the people i actually believe. however, she is worst than me in the “leaving” category, because she refuses to stay on this continent. this kind of pisses me off summer. can’t you find a phd program at johns hopkins?

sylvia and george- my egypitan halves. another mathematical impossibility, but they are married, so it works! how many times did you guys come visit me in portland?! or let me stay with you when we lived in virginia, and you even stayed with me around the clock and wouldn’t let me be by myself (even when i insisted you go- but really was relieved you were there), when it was the worst day of forever… even though you are stuck in yakima- somehow it seems we always end up near one another…  you guys have so much of that 1/2, it’s ridiculous.

my oh my, what halves i have. what friendship and laughter and love. life is good, even when it’s not. i just have to do the math.

i am blessed that my ten halves equal one whole me.

neil, shomy, bekah, yoffe. this was the coldest day of my life. literally. i somehow managed to snap a picture, though i am sure my fingers were frozen, and neil somhow managed to smile. maybe his lips were frozen that way? also, you can totally tell yoffe is korean here, and yes. i am most defintely stereotyping. you’re allowed to if you’re korean.

ps. if i have left you out, unintentional it was. but it’s late and i’m off to bed.