NaNoWriMo

You may have noticed it is no longer November and that means National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWrimo) is over.  The goal this month was to write 50,000 words towards a novel.  A lot of people want to know about my experience, so I will answer some frequently asked questions on here. 

So, how did you do? 
 

Well, it depends on who you ask.  If you ask the people who make the NaNoWriMo rules, they’d say I failed miserably.  I wrote a mere 21,000+ words.  However, I feel like November was still a success.  My novel may not be (anywhere near) finished, but I’m really happy with how it’s going so far.  I’m still full of excitment and momentum and I will definitely keep going with this.  I have new, more realistic goals of seeing my novel completed and through a first edit by the time I return to Canada, mid-July.  (For anyone who is eagerly counting the days until my return, that would be 218 days.)

Day 1: A blank computer screen, citron and framboise macarons (a new love I acquired in Paris this summer), "Beethoven's Last Night" by Trans-Siberian Orchestra and a Batman clothespin ordering me not to procrastinate (sorry, Batman, I think I let you down!)

That's still a lot of words... any tips?

I’m very grateful for the extra push that NaNoWriMo gave me because I have never made it this far into a project before.  

Sitting through intensive writing sessions with others helped me to focus.  I'm not typically one who "works well with others" but this seemed to work for me.  I guess it is because everyone was side by side, but in their own little world.  It helps to be able to get encouragement from friends, especially inspirational friends like Shannon Young who have done this before and become REAL authors.

Disconnecting my WiFi helped me to focus even further.  The internet is a distracting place… there are too many cute cats out there.  Luckily, I was directed towards "Written? Kitten!", where my writing was rewarded with a cute cat for every 100 words I wrote.  Even though I didn’t meet my goal, I wrote more than I ever could have imagined and still saw a lot of cats. 

I found that I definitely work better away from home.  A Starbucks will be opening about 5 minutes walking distance from my house later this month.  My husband bought me a thin, lightweight Asus Ultrabook for my birthday in October.  My Ultrabook and I have plans to frequently haunt Starbucks in 2014.

A group of eager Hong Kong writers at a write-in (photo credit goes to someone else at the write-in, but I can't remember who... sorry!)

What is your inspiration?  

When I first decided to do NaNoWriMo, I wasn't sure what to write about at all.  I have a few projects that are (half-heartedly) on the go already so my initial thought was to finish one of those, but I wanted a fresh start.  I've had multiple requests for an autobiography, but that just didn't seem right for NaNo. 

I was getting ready to give up before I even started when this idea popped into my head out of nowhere.  Within about ten minutes of frantic typing, my mind had spun an entire story!  (Of course, the story developed much more after those ten minutes.)  

My novel is inspired by my summer trip to Scotland and Ireland.  (Posts on these countries coming soon to a blog near you!)  I arrived in Europe having only the vaguest notion of leprechauns, faeries, selkies and giants.  I returned to Hong Kong half-believing in magic and otherworldly creatures after being enchanted by folktales.  I swear, I caught fleeting glimpses of these mystical realms as I was hiking in hidden fields or sitting atop jagged bluffs.

Pictured below is the exact spot that is the main inspiration for my story. 

The Faerie Pools in Scotland, August 2013

What is your novel about?

Pretend this is the back cover of a book:

"He shall suffer such things as destiny wove with the strand of his birth that day he was born to his mother"- Homer, The Iliad

  

This is the tale of a real-world tragedy, on sacred faerie grounds, that has unprecedented consequences in both worlds.  To restore their home, the faeries pledge to take the first-born daughter of Natalie, the only human remaining on the accident scene when they arrive.  But when Natalie gives birth to twins nine months later, she begins to hatch a plan. Despite twisted minds and twists of fate, her family runs. But can they ever truly escape what is lurking right below the surface? This is a dark story of fate, free will, love, lies and an intermingling of worlds that will leave you questioning reality. 

I'm keeping the synopsis a bit vague for now because I'm not sure exactly how much I want to give away.  There are multiple layers, worlds and surprises in store!  I'm not sure what genre to place my novel in.  Despite all the faeries, it is definitely not fantasy.  I also don't have a title.  These are the little details I'll work out later.

And to finish things up, I'll leave you with this super creepy (and beautiful) faerie song I found on Youtube and listened to on repeat through much of the month.  There was a particularly scary moment when my computer restarted at 3am and restored all my tabs in Chrome... the Youtube page refreshed and the song started playing automatically.

    

A Ridiculous Ode to Cheese

Confession #1: This is not an entry that can be classified under “Travel Blog”.  Sorry!

Confession #2: I love cheese.  A lot.  Too much.  Now, yes, cheese has an amazing taste, no one deny that.  But I’ve realized tonight, after reflecting upon cheese via a thread on my friend Hollie’s Facebook status, that cheese is oh so much more than a sharp bite of extra calories on my thighs.  I think I have an emotional relationship with the dairy food group.

So, my love affair with cheese… it all began as a childhood crush when I was 7.  I remember that lunchtime walk home from school, in the bitter Canadian cold, (you know, in those days before global warming made us all subtropical) looking forward to my dad’s world famous grilled cheese sandwich.  He would cut thick slabs of cheddar or marble cheese from a brick and grill it between the bread, with heaps of butter.  I remember kicking the snow off my boots on the threshold of the front door and running into the kitchen to my dad’s ready-waiting frying pan.  His sandwiches were always grilled to perfection, never burnt, never cold in the middle.  Every morsel of melting deliciousness warmed me from the inside out on those cold winter days. I don’t know why I didn’t just bring a packed-lunch to school like everyone else.  It would have been much easier on my parents.  But I’m glad I didn’t.  So artery-clogging.  So perfect.  Great times spent with my dad.   

When I got a bit older and was at that baby-sitting age, I had the privilege of “baby-sitting” one of my best friends, Amanda.  It wasn’t so much work as it was play (but I kept a good eye on her!  I was responsible!) and we opened our own celebrity restaurant.  Imaginary Michael Jacksons and Elizabeth Taylors dined in our establishment and the menu specialty was fried cheese (as that was all I could cook).  I discovered fried cheese by accident because I sucked at making grilled cheese.  Fried cheese is when the cheese slips off the side of the bread and just bubbles up in the pan, then turns hard when removed from the burner.  Amanda and I eliminated the middle man and just threw a bunch of cheese in the frying pan.  For a more ‘adult style’ version of fried cheese, use haloumi and squeeze a lemon over it.  I had this for supper last night. 

And now we get serious. When I was 19, I became a very strict vegetarian (except for that time a certain roomie vengefully drained beef grease into my ‘textured soy protein’.  I’m glad we can all laugh at that now).  At that point, I stopped eating cheese with rennet in it.  For years, I read labels and became more and more disappointed in my cheese choices.  Microbial enzymes just weren’t what they are now so I ate less cheese for a good half decade or so.  (If you don’t know what rennet is, I’m not going to tell you.  I don’t want to be directly responsible for ruining your dinner.  I’ll let Google take care of that.)  During this same time, I was living in Quebec.  Something went awry with the French-English translation during a Dial-a-Cheese by phone type of thing and I ended up with $90 of fromage on our doorstep the next day!  Mon Dieu!  Au revior, weekly budget!

When I started to eat cheese again, I noticed a change.  A horrible, gut-wrenching, gaseous change.  It seemed that in my non-dairy phase, I’d become lactose intolerant.  I still am to this very day.  My body had stopped producing the enzyme that digests lactose.  To be officially declared as such, I had to have some testing done.  This involved days of fasting (literally days of eating NOTHING) and sitting around in the lab at the hospital.  It turns out, I was never able to officially take the test because my body was never able to purge itself of all the lactose.  They declared me lactose intolerant based on that fact alone and suggested I never touch cheese again.  The good part about all this was that my waiting around at the hospital gave me ample time to spend with my grandma in her last days. She was one floor down, in the cancer ward, and I cherish that time we spent in the hospital together.  I love my grandma dearly and if it weren’t for my horrible stomach cramps, I wouldn’t have had that extra time off work to spend with her.  Those days were worth all the lactose-induced pains I will ever have in my life. 

A few years later, after my first year of working in the real world (right before finding out I was laid off from the real world), I booked a trip to California.  Well, “booked a trip” is a loose term, as it involved me taking the train across the country to meet my girlfriends and then staying in hostels from San Francisco to L.A.  (and, oh, what a time it was!)  California was obviously where all of my dreams were going to come true.  So, one rainy night in Kansas, our train’s navigation system got struck by lightning (come on, are you really surprised…. this is me we’re talking about) and we got stuck in a cornfield or something for a day.  The train quickly ran out of vegetarian friendly meals and left me only with a large amount of Babybel cheese.  It was my first time having it (these were the expensive, wax-coated slices of heaven I could never afford at home) and man, was it delicious.  I spent the next 24 hours or so stranded in a train car with people who had been strangers to me the day before.  I drank beer and ate those colourful wheels of glory while bonding for life with Jersey, Cuba, and Pok as we all made our way westward, listening to Simon and Garfunkle’s America. What happens in Kansas stays in Kansas.

And now, for some refined times.  *Cue the classical music*  My childhood besties and I can’t resist a good dinner party.  And a good dinner party must include fondue.  About once a month, throughout university and beyond (until careers and life scattered us across the globe) the very same girls that I’d played hide-and-seek with as children, showed up at my door bearing dessert squares, fruit platters, and a multitude of dips from around the world.  But the centerpiece of it all: a cheese fondue, homemade, by yours truly.  That’s right.  I painstakingly mixed wine, flour, cheese, and whatever else went into that concoction.  I stirred it patiently while it turned from a gloopy paste into the perfection where we dipped our vegetables.  After fondue, we would always have a karaoke session in my basement.  That was the significantly less classy part of the evening, but no less cheesy.

And that brings me to this summer.  My husband and I had a remarkable time travelling through Europe (and I have been very negligent in blogging about it… only 2 countries out of 6 so far, I believe).  Living in Asia, I just don’t each as much cheese as I used to.  It’s not a staple in their diet here (and it shouldn’t be a staple in mine).  But in Europe, oh, it is the very lifeblood of civilization.  Cheese flows through their veins!  I guess my lactose intolerance had kind of slipped my mind.  On our cruise in Norway (my first cruise), I was surprised with the richness of the food.  We had to stop at the next port to buy Lactaid.  Back home, it’s around $12 CDN for 100 pills…. in Norway, the same amount cost nearly $100 CDN.  The cost of living in that beautiful country…. Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it.  In Ireland, the go-to appetizer on every menu was deep fried Brie.  I easily lost a year of my life to poor eating in Ireland.  In Scotland, I ordered a blue cheese and onion sandwich, thinking those would be the subtle accents atop the lettuce and tomato on whole wheat.  Oh no, I ate a year’s worth of blue cheese between two slices of bread.  And thankfully, I had my toothbrush.  In Holland, we ate cheese, dipped in spicy mustards, while catching up with dear old friends.  In France, it was fancy Champagne and cheese beneath the Eiffel Tower for our two year anniversary.  I really overdid it this summer.  I swear, by the time we came home from Europe, I had such an aversion to my beloved cheese that I thought I might even be pregnant.  What else could cause such a hatred of an otherwise adored food?  Not so, but I guess you really can have too much of a good thing.

And thus ends my ode to cheese.  

England: A Journey to my Past

I’ve never cared much for history lessons (unless there’s a juicy conspiracy theory involved).  I have vague recollections of charting Ferdinand Magellan’s course on a map with a partner in grade 6, but other than that I’m not even positive I took a history class in school.  I figured this wasn’t my great loss; history is often a biased account of events with too many convoluted names and dates.  And we don’t really seem to learn from it anyway. 

Oh, England, sweet motherland, you changed my mind!  Nothing could have prepared me for the sentiment I felt when I first set foot on the ground of the country in which my heritage is based.  I felt like I’d come home to a place I’d never been.  These feelings stayed with me throughout our time in England, surprising me with misty eyes at the site of thatched-roof cottages and rolling landscapes alike.  I found myself completely enthralled in all the stories and drama surrounding the castles and royal families of yesteryear.  Every single guide we had in England was just incredible and brought it all to life for me.  However, my appreciation for England goes much deeper than that.    

My grandma was from England.  She died 8 years ago but there is still not a day that goes by where she doesn’t cross my mind.  My grandma and I were very close and she was my hero and inspiration.  If I can someday grow to be half the woman she was, I would know I’ve lived a worthwhile life.  She had such a vivacious spirit: as a retired nurse, she continued to volunteer at the hospital until she herself became the patient, she raised 7 kids on her own, travelled the world even in her 80’s, overcame odds time and again, and she was selfless… utterly and completely selfless.

I’m sure most people have lost someone close to them, so this is probably a very relatable sentiment: I hate that I can’t share stories with her and tell her everything I’ve done in these past 8 years.  I hope she’d be proud.  In England, I was able to feel connected to my grandma again.  Knowing I was walking the same streets she used to walk brought me a sense of both comfort and awe.  I felt like my present and her past were colliding, outside of the constraints of time.  

My grandma and dad on their last trip to England (left).
Me standing in the exact same place this summer (right).

The White Cliffs of Dover

Stonehenge at sunset

The medieval village of Canterbury.

Me at the Roman Baths.

My husband and I posing with Tower Bridge (my favourite bridge).

Norway: Land of the Midnight Sun

This summer’s Euro-trip was beyond amazing.  I had lofty goals of coming home and writing a new post every day until I covered each country we travelled too.  That’s not going to happen.  Sorry.  I’ll do my best, but it’ll probably take a few weeks, unless I’m feeling particularly ambitious.  People keep asking me which country I liked best, but I honestly can’t decide.  Whenever I start to come up with an answer, all the memories of the other countries come flooding back and I have to start figuring it out all over again. I think the only real answer is the same answer people give when asked which of their children they like best (what kind of question is that!): all of them, because they were all special for different reasons.

The first part of our trip was a Holland America cruise to Norway.  Cruising is definitely a different sort of experience from the way we normally travel, but I think it was a well-deserved taste of luxury.  Before leaving Hong Kong, I even had a gown tailor-made for formal nights.  (Formal night was wonderful, but felt a little less upscale when I asked for the mocktail menu and was subsequently handed the kiddie menu from which I proceeded to order and thoroughly enjoy a fruity little number called the “Taylor Swift Magic”.)  All in all, the cruise was great.   The food was good, the scenery was amazing, and the nightly song and dance shows were outstanding.

cute little village near Eidfjord, by my husband

Norway was magical.  It was misty and cloudy the entire time, but that added to its mystique.  The clouds loomed low over the mountains and the water ran deep through the fjords (300 metres).  Most of the time there was a light drizzle, except when we were sea kayaking… that’s when it poured sheets of rain.

Cruising includes a lot of planned activities.  Usually this is not really my style, but after a very hectic, stressful last little while in Hong Kong, I was ready to sit back and have someone else do all the work.  There were excursions on land to explore the quaint little Norwegian towns, onboard a ship activities like Scattergories competitions (I won!),  and even a Dancing with the Stars theme night (I auditioned and didn’t make it… quite glad I didn’t because those judges were mean).

Beautiful view, by my husband

Amazingly, in Norway, I learned two important lessons about living in Hong Kong: 

1. If you are lucky enough to live in Asia and be able to get most medicines super cheap over-the-counter, do so.  Don’t wait until you are in one of the most expensive countries in the world to buy lactose pills for $98 CDN per box.

2. If you can’t read the sign posted at a store, don’t just guess.  Ask.  Use Google image pictures, wild arm gestures, and that handy language translator app you likely have on your phone.  I didn’t do any of these things.  That is how I ended up with a $5 CDN windbreaker that I thought was a bargain raincoat.  And then, that is how I subsequently ended up in a kayak with my icy, drenched jacket stuck to my skin for three hours.

kayaking, before the heavy rain

The most fascinating thing about Norway was the light.  We didn’t see the sun the entire time due to all the drizzle, but whether it was noon or midnight, it was equally light; the sun set after midnight and rose again around 3:30 am.  In winter, it is the opposite and they barely get any light.  One of the most amazing sites I’ve ever seen in my life (and unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of it) was when we were sailing back to England from Norway.  Shortly after midnight, we went up to the top outside deck to take a look around and enjoy the stars.  Out on the open sea, there was nothing but blackness around us in three directions.  However, as we looked north towards Norway, we could still see a dome of light on the horizon. 

Norway is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been.  

view from the ship

Euro-Itinerary

Another school year is almost done, but this year I'm not going home.  That's sort of a bittersweet feeling.  I miss everyone and wish I could see my friends and family, but the reason we're not going heading to Canada is because my husband and I are about to embark on a five-week European summer adventure.

On Friday morning (Thursday night for those of you in N.A.), we're boarding a plane for London.  I'm sure I'll write multiple entries on the different legs of our journey once we return, so I won't bore you with all the details now before they even happen.  I'll just give the brief rundown for now, in order.

1. Norway: a cruise with Holland America.  This will be my first cruise and I'm really looking forward to it!
2. England: London, Dover, Bath, Stonehenge, Lacock, Canterberry, Leeds, and HARRY POTTER STUDIOS!!!  Mostly, we will be based in London and doing daytrips.
3. Ireland: renting a car and driving in a large circle around the country, including the Ring of Kerry and Dingle Peninsula.
4. Scotland: an adventure bus tour for people 35 and under.  We'll be travelling around the whole country and I hope to get a picture of the illusive Loch Ness Monster.
5. The Netherlands: pretty much just hanging out in Amsterdam
6. France: We'll be spending our two year anniversary in one of the most romantic places on earth... Paris.

We're getting from place to place by train, boat, bus, car and plane.  Mostly train though, as it is Europe and that's the romantic way to travel.

On our flight back to Hong Kong from Paris (August 17th), I'll be hitting a milestone: 100,000 kilometres travelled by air!

So this may or may not be my last update for a while.  This week is looking mighty jam-packed with last minute preparations and then we wont have the internet again until we reach Ireland.  At that point, I'll probably be enjoying our vacation and not blogging.

Have a great summer, everyone!!!

Maybe I Should Buy a Lottery Ticket

Let me regale you with a tale of woe: 

It was a dark and stormy night.  The sultry late summer heat had taken its toll on all the citizens of the small town Canadian town of Tecumseh.  Towering clouds were rolling in and an unsteady energy bounced around in the air.  But that didn’t matter… it was pageant night so the entire town gathered into the outdoor venue to see the young ladies vying for the crown.  A young girl sat in the audience, just one year too old to compete in the beauty pageant that shaped her teenage summers.  It didn’t matter that she’d never won… she still loved to participate.  And now she loved to watch.

As the winner took her final victory walk around the stage, beauty and grace quickly exited the scene to make room for complete mayhem and terror.  Lightning lit up the sky and stole the show.  Spirals, loops and ground to sky: lightning was doing things previously not thought possible by the former pageant girl in the audience.  Was this girl scared?  Not at all.  She was delighted!  She’d always been a risk taker and now fancied herself a budding storm photographer. She even had quasi-serious dreams of moving to Kansas someday to chase storms.

The girl, transfixed by the sky, slowly put her fold-up lawn chair back in its bag, swung it over her shoulder and started the 10 minute walk to the car, parked down a residential street.  Her mother walked beside her and they joked and laughed as they watched lightning’s magnificent show. 

In an instant, the girl’s whole life changed.  It happened as if in slow motion, but it must have been fast.  Lightning fast.  Lightning struck the road beside the mother and daughter.  Unbridled energy rippled through the air as the lightning forked and started heading straight for the girl’s head.  She ducked, but the metal lawn chair acted as a lightning rod.  Lightning hit the girl in the ear, knocking her to the ground.  Miraculously, she remained unhurt but for a small entry and exit burn on either side of her earlobe.  However, this girl would give up her storm chasing, lightning photography dreams.  Instead, she would spend the next decade of her life being completely traumatized.

The former pageant girl who was in the audience that fateful night.

So readers, do you want to know something?  That girl was me.  I’ve not always been the girl you know now, curled into a ball on the ground or cowering in a corner.  Those are the effects of trauma on a person.  Just two years prior to this incident, I clearly remember sitting with a friend by the edge of a swamp in the Florida Everglades, trying to snap pictures of a huge lightning storm overhead.  (That was very stupid and dangerous.) 

I’ve alluded to my hatred of storms on this blog before, but I realize I’ve never actually given the reason.  So there it is.  And this was not an isolated incident.  Lightning tries its hardest to strike the same place more than once, or at least the same person.  Lightning has been after me my whole life, both before and after this incident, and I tempted fate too many times:

-In grade school, my school’s chimney was struck, right above my French classroom.  The chimney came crumbling down and a mild electric shockwave travelled through my classroom.  I can still remember my teacher screaming and jumping onto her desk.  At the time, we all laughed, but I understand now, Mlle. 

-The backyard hydropole of the house I grew up in was struck twice.  We lost all our appliances twice due to power surges from the lightning strikes.  Thanks for the new TV, insurance company!

-A tree was struck in my parents' current backyard, rendering our hammock useless.

-On my way out to California, my train was struck by lightning, leaving the navigation system unusable and leaving us stuck in a field in the middle of Kansas for 12+ hours.  (If I had any lingering thoughts of moving to Kansas to chase storms, those thoughts were gone by the end of that ordeal.)

Kansas.  This was our view from the train window.  All day.

-My car was struck on the highway while my husband was driving (I wasn’t in it at the time).  Luckily, that one worked out for the best.  A car is a perfectly safe place to be and a jolt of electricity seemed to fix an electrical problem the car had been having.

-A tree was struck outside my classroom window back home.  (And I, as the teacher, had to appear much braver than I actually was.)

It’ll be a decade this summer since the incident.  I’m getting better.  I don’t have to hide under my bed in the basement anymore.  I no longer cry and rock back and forth in a dark, windowless room.  However, if we happen to be out somewhere together and a storm starts (even if it’s a very distant storm), don’t be surprised if I freak out, seek immediate shelter and refuse to leave (this weekend, my friends definitely saw the worst of me).  Don’t be surprised if I set my phone browser to the local lightning tracker service and refresh the page a few times a minute.  If there is a storm a-brewing, don’t be surprised if I cancel plans. (For example, sorry Fi, but I may cancel our lunch plans this afternoon…. Stay tuned for up-to the minute weather forecasts… it may be cloudy with a chance of brave Stephanie.  I'll keep refreshing my lightning tracker.)

So that’s the story behind the madness…. An electrifying tale of doom.

Driving in a storm... Gripping the wheel for dear life and sitting like a granny, as though that was going to help.

A Magic Carpet Ride

It was with great excitement that Kaitlin and I travelled to the land of magic carpets and caravan camels.  We flew into Delhi and arrived at 2am or so, with no money.  (It turns out it’s nearly impossible to get rupees outside of India.)  We headed to a hotel in an alley about 10 minutes from the airport so we could catch some sleep before our connecting flight to Jodhpur the next morning.  Upon arrival at Jodhpur (also known as The Blue City because everything is painted blue), we were met by our private driver, Nand, from ‘India by Car and Driver’.  The plan was to drive around the entire desert state of Rajasthan (and then dip down to Agra).  The plan was NOT to get three marriage proposals, but Kaitlin managed to do that anyway throughout the course of our trip.  (She did not accept any… hehehe.) 

We would return to both Delhi and Jodhur later in the trip, but the first order of business was to drive right on through towards Jaisalmer (The Golden City).  Jaisalmer made me feel like I’d stepped back hundreds of years.  Everything was yellow and brown, being made of sand and cow dung.  Ok, that doesn’t sound that so nice, but it was beautiful.

Jaisalmer stretched out behind us.

Displaying their colourful wares

After a few days, we headed into the Thar Desert, which is right on the border of India and Pakistan.  We rode camels for hours before giving our beasts of burden a break on the hot sand dunes.  I should also mention that this was during heat like I’d never experienced before.  Not even Hong Kong is this hot!  It was well over 50 degrees!  However, it was a dry heat, and I stayed covered most of the time, so it was all good.  Somehow, in the middle of the desert, miles from anywhere, a man showed up at just the right time with cold beer while we were resting on the dunes.  It might have been simply a mirage, but it was the most refreshing beer I’d ever had.

Riding camels through the desert

In the Thar Desert

My camel is watching the sunset

That night, we saw an incredible fire eating, sword swallowing, traditional dancing show in a tiny little village while we ate the best meal ever (actually, every meal I had in India turned out to be the best meal ever).  After the show, we were given the choice to sleep in some little village huts or out in the desert.  Of course, we chose the desert!  We were quickly whisked away in the back of someone’s pickup truck and driven 15 minutes out to the middle of nowhere.  They set up a makeshift bed (which surprised us, as we were prepared to sleep on the ground with the scorpions) and left us there, saying they’d be back to get us in the morning.  What a night!  This was the night we discovered that camels growl in their sleep (and how thankful we were that it was not a very lost tiger). 

In our desert bed

I stayed awake for a long time thinking about how the world is timeless and political borders are arbitrary… there was nothing in the desert to differentiate whether it was 2012 of 200 B.C.  There was nothing to differentiate this border desert from Pakistan, and all of the Middle East which lies beyond.  I thought that these bright stars illuminating the endless desert were likely quite similar to what the wisemen and shepherds experienced while making their pilgrimage to Bethlehem all those years ago.  I awoke at 4:30 and decided to let Kaitlin sleep.  I climbed to the top of a nearby sand dune and fixated on the east.  Signs of morning gradually sprung up around me: stars modestly covered themselves in silk scarves as the sun lifted its sleepy head, scarabs began looking for the breakfast, and a transformer blew in a distant village because too many people had used electricity at the same time. 

Heading back to the village the next morning

Jodhpur and Jaipur (The Pink City) were full of both ancient sites and bustling markets.  In Jodhpur, we stayed with a local family who graciously welcomed us into their home.  In Jaipur, we thought we’d switch things up and stay in a palace.  It was so fancy Ifelt a little uncomfortable at times; they even cut our food for us!  But man, was it ever gorgeous!

The palace in Jaipur

Then we headed into the jungle in search of tigers…. and we found one!  The tiger was bathing in a pond, but when he saw us he started stalking towards us.  (A lesson thoroughly impressed on us in South Africa was NEVER break the shape of the vehicle you’re in.  Animals see a 4x4 safari vehicle as a large predator, but if you stick your hand out or climb on the hood, as the boy in India did, the animal will start to see the vehicle as smaller animals combined together to look bigger, like a herd of antelope.)  Luckily, the guide summoned the boy back into the vehicle in time, but I was starting to get worried.      

Roar!

We didn’t stay directly in the jungle but rather in a small village with a big name right outside it.  The hotel we stayed at had the best food ever (it was my first time trying cashew curry) and you just couldn’t beat the fact that they plunked around 10 baby albino bunnies on our table so we could cuddle and play with them while we waited for our food.

So many baby albino bunnies!!!  (My red eyes tell you just how allergic I was to this pile of cuteness.)

Our last stop was Agra, where we saw the Taj Mahal.  I’m not usually one for looking at buildings, but this was a work of art. 

Taj Mahal

Despite my love of India, I need to mention the extreme poverty.  Indian people are some of the friendliest and most welcoming I have ever met.  However, they are also some of the most destitute.  We drove past many shanty towns where it would have been dangerous for us, as outsiders, to even enter past the main road.  When I travel, I find myself frustrated with my powerlessness to help people right where they’re at.  I always thought that when I was finally able to travel the world, I’d swoop in with bags of clothes and hygiene supplies, throw some money into the air and change lives.  Reality is not like that though.  Social hierarchy, government, organized crime, and exploitation of the weakest and poorest make helping not just difficult, but actually dangerous, for both giver and receiver.  I help where I can, but not in the ways I’d always dreamed of.   

In a bustling city

Men played their instruments all over the place.

To end on a happy note, I will tell you about the animals of India.  People don’t have cars there.  They have camels and elephants to transport their family from Point A to Point B.  These animals (along with all the wild cows and goats roaming the street) are highly revered and are not mistreated in the slightest.  I have actually seen animals living better than people in India.  Just like cars, you might want a different colour or style from your neighbours… how can you do this with elephants?  Decorate!  Kaitlin and I were very lucky to find a family that allowed us to paint their elephant.  What a wonderful experience!

Painting an elephant

The snake charmer let me sit with him and his snake!

**Washrooms are, ummm, a special thing in India, and in other countries I’ve been to.  I already wrote a post on that though, so there’s no need to repeat myself.  Go check it out here.  **

**Nand was helpful, reliable and funny throughout our entire trip and ‘India by Car and Driver’ helped us to arrange things in a way we just wouldn’t have been able to otherwise.  If you are going to India, you must book with them.**

**Aladdin actually take place in ancient Iraq, but it still felt all magical in India**

Clicking My Ruby Heels

I’ve been feeling homesick this past week.  Maybe it's because everyone else is talking about going home in a few weeks and I decided to fill a backpack with only the essentials and traipse around Europe instead.  At the time, it seemed like a great idea. I mean, it'll be absolutely awesome, but of course there's a part of me that wishes I was going home.

Maybe it’s because milestone events are happening at home.  My grandma just turned 80 and I’m worried that next time I see her, she won’t remember me.  My dear cousin just got engaged and I wish I could help her celebrate.  Maybe it’s because I was called fat (again)… I’m not fat!  I’m just not Chinese!  Or maybe it’s because I’m tired of travelling forty minutes by train to get fresh produce.  There is very little demand for fresh produce where I live, so sometimes the same head of lettuce will sit on the shelf for a week.  Everything just looks so wilted and limp.

Over the years, I've taken to Photoshopping myself into major family events... like here, directly from Thailand to my sister's baby shower: 

Or sending super hokey Christmas greetings to my parents, via my webcam:

I miss my parents and in-laws and all the love, support and comfort they provide.  I miss my friends and sister: karaoke, board games, fondue parties, camping, backyard drinks, downtown dancing, deep talks, non-stop laughter, never any gossip or drama between us because we know who we are to each other…

My bridesmaids... these girls have been my closest friends since before I can even remember.

I'm so lucky to have all these wonderful ladies in my life (and also those who are not in this picture!  You know who you are!) 

There are a bunch of smaller things I’m missing right now too:  clean air, driving with the windows down and La Vie Boheme blaring on repeat, my favourite restaurants, familiar smells, beaches without shark nets, department stores... I started counting down the days and found I still have 405 days to go.  Sometimes, that doesn’t sound like a big number at all but other times, it may as well be a million.  I’ll be ok.  

How do I know I'll be ok?  I've felt this way before.  It passes.  If you're new to travelling and you feel like this, what should you do?  Here's my advice:

1.       Indulge.  I mean, don’t indulge in Haagen Dazs White Chocolate Raspberry Swirl ice cream every day for the entire month of June when you are getting married in August (hindsight is 20/20) but indulge in something that reminds you of home, and don’t feel guilty about it.

2.       Keep in touch with friends and family. Harass your parents with daily phone calls because your super cheap overseas phone plan allows that.  Write postcards to those archaic people without the internet.   Skype and pray it won’t be too glitchy.  Keep your sister up way too late with silly Facebook conversations that no one else would understand (often as a long string of comments on other people’s photos… sorry to those who have fallen victim to that).

3.       Keep in touch with yourself.  You will become a different person when you travel; this is inevitable.  Embrace the personal growth and evolution, but never forget who you are or where you came from.  Keep a journal, take lots of pictures, write a blog entry on homesickness and see if that helps.  

  

4.       Be grateful.  If you are travelling, you’re probably doing things you never thought you would or even could do.  Are you diving with sharks in Borneo?  On safari in South Africa? Backpacking through rural China and staying at a hostel that needs to be condemned?  Good or bad, never take your opportunities for granted.  Live in each moment and know that both the best and the worst will make amazing stories later.

5.       Pay homage to your country.  For example, I have just spent the entire last week watching Great Big Sea music videos at school while I mark worksheets (and that’s not just because Alan Doyle is a total hottie). 

6.       If you can’t be with the ones you love… love the ones you’re with.  Whether it is someone you meet on the road, at a party or at work, it helps to have someone else in the same boat.  You might become friends with people you never would have met outside of this situation.  Get to know these people because they have at least one thing in common with you… they are away from home and in a new situation too.  I am so lucky to have my husband with me.  This way, we are never alone and can experience everything together.  The stressful situations make us stronger and the happy ones make us closer.   These are definitely the days we’ll be telling our grandkids about. 

7.       Know that it will pass.  You will always miss your family and friends… that won’t change.  But some days are better than others.  With a new adventure around every corner, you will have distractions galore so just roll with it and let the time pass quickly.  

I remember quite a few years ago being out for karaoke with some co-workers in Nanaimo.  My friend David sang an absolutely beautiful and heartwrenching rendition of this song.  I've honestly never seen someone put so much emotion into singing.  He was from China, living in Canada.  At the time, I must admit I had a few tears in my eyes... but now I truly understand.

My HK Top 10

A throwback to my first week living in Hong Kong... nearly 3 years ago!

10.  Bills

Already, you must be thinking I’m crazy.  I love bills?!  Well, not exactly, but compared to my bills in Canada, y    es.  In some respects, Hong Kong has a higher cost of living (though really, that’s more of a lifestyle change I made when moving here- organic foods, fancy restaurants, taking too many taxis… you can still live cheap in Hong Kong, if you want to) but bills are just cheap no matter what!

The following prices are in CDN/US:

-Internet (high speed, wireless, 10x faster than anything even offered in Canada, unlimited bandwidth) $20 per month

-Phone (4000 local minutes, 2000 international minutes, unlimited data, call waiting, call answer, etc.) $17 per month

-Gas $11 for 3 months

-Electricity… haven’t had the first bill yet (was included in our old place) but rumour has it it’s very cheap.

-Income tax… well, I never had to pay income tax in Canada because I never made enough money (pathetic, right?) so any amount of payment seems scary for me, but in HK, you pay on a sliding scale (2% on the first $5300, 7% on the next $5300, 12% on the next $5300 and 17% on the rest). Husband is a good tax deduction too!

9. Nightlife

I'll buy a drink for the first HK person to correctly guess where we are.

So, I’m not super big on going out all the time (getting old), but when I do, I like to do it right.  Hong Kong is one of those cities that never sleeps.  When we go out, we typically start with a nice dinner and end with the sunrise.  What happens in between?!  

Beer Goggles? (Actually, I don't drink Guinness)

Dancing in Lan Kwai Fong (LKF), pub hopping in SoHo, hanging out in “The Coliseum” (a large outdoor casual hangout area between LKF and SoHo where people drink cheap beer from 7-Eleven), 2am foot massages, putting on the ritz at private member clubs, late night beach parties, karaoke, you name it!  Speaking of karaoke…..

Saturday night on the main street in LKF

8. Karaoke

It’s very different from back home.  In HK, you rent a private room with your friends, so there is no audience.  Admittedly, I miss the audience a bit.  I have just recently found a karaoke bar that is about a 10 minute walk from my apartment.  For less than $20 CDN, I can rent a private room, with WiFi, a computer, crazy amounts of karaoke, and free drinks (and slightly more for a buffet, if you happen to be into seafood).  What?!  That sounds awesome!  Is this for one hour?  Two?  No!  It’s for the entire night!!!  Until 5am!!!!  I just found out about the place last week and stayed until midnight on a work night (ooops).  I think I’ll become a regular.  It’s close to home, and gives me some “me time” while doing something I love.

7. Location, Location, Location

Hong Kong is a main hub for the rest of Asia.  You can get to so many different countries with just a quick hour flight and $100 (CDN).  Since living here, I’ve been to Macau (2x), China (4x), Thailand (2x), Taiwan, Singapore, Cambodia, Malaysia, India and South Africa (ok, so that last one isn’t a quick flight or $100, but it was still closer and cheaper than it would have been from Canada).  I love to travel so this is definitely the place for me.

6. People

Honestly, I’m not much of a people person, but Hong Kong people are alright in my books.  (Bring on the generalizations…)   Unfortunately, Hong Kong has a reputation for having some of the rudest people in the world, but it’s all just cultural misunderstandings.  I find that Hong Kong people are just friendly enough, without being overbearing.  North Americans struggle to fill silences with benign small talk.  Here, there are comfortable silences between both friends and strangers.  There is no ‘in-your-face’ attitude but people will still be blunt and truthful if they’re close enough to you to matter.  If you're slightly antisocial like me, Hong Kong offers a very refreshing take on interpersonal relations.     

5.  Waffles

When you think Hong Kong, waffles probably aren’t the first thing that comes to mind.  But Hong Kong street vendors have THE BEST waffles in the world (sorry, Belgium).  They are hot off the waffle press with a thin layer of butter, smothered in peanut butter, and drizzled heavily with condensed milk.  Then they are folded in half and eaten like a taco.  How disgusting is that?!  Disgusting, but delicious.  Sadly, I lost my appetite for these delicacies about a year ago because I saw a woman in Yuen Long stirring a large vat of waffle batter with her entire arm, elbow deep.  Ewwww! 

4. Kung Fu

My first Kung Fu show, in Beijing

I fell in love with Kung Fu in on my first trip to China 2.5 years ago.  I wish it wasn’t too late in my life for me to become a Kung Fu master.  My students are so cute.  They do Kung Fu performances at special school events throughout the year.  Some of them are actually really good.  I like the day of our school Christmas party.  This is day each of the 25 classrooms in our school are full of food, laughter and decorations. It is also the day kids are allowed to bring their Kung Fu swords to school.  I’m just hoping my kids will be interested in it.  I want to raise tiny martial artists.

Kung Fu at the class Christmas party

3. Neighbourhoods

Sunrise view from my rooftop terrace

You can get off the MTR (subway) at any point and have surprises waiting for you.  Sometimes you might find yourself on a busy main street, dwarfed by intense skyscrapers.  Other times, you may find yourself exploring a narrow cobblestone alley bartering for antique treasures (both real and fake antiques).  A short bus ride from an MTR station could bring you to vast wilderness, mountains, snakes and monkeys.  Or you could end up in a quaint local park, complete with koi ponds and pagodas.  My own neighbourhood is quite local.  It is very far removed from the typical pictures you see of Hong Kong.  I like living out here though.  It gives me a break from all the craziness and I am not surrounded by other expats, making me feel like I’m living in Anycity, USA.  (Although living in Central would certainly have it’s positive points that can’t be said for living in Yuen Long: convenience, entertainment, food, etc.)  And living out where I do, there is more chance of encountering (and taking part in) a random lion or dragon dance!

2. Junk Parties

This is when fellow expats gather everyone they know (and everyone their friends know), pool their money, and rent a large wooden yacht (known as a junk) for 8 hours.  The junk travels about 1 hour each way to and from a deserted location (but for the other junks) and then anchors off a tropical beach for 6 hours.  This is a time to drink, eat, talk, swim, etc.  The best junk ever was one that I organized last year, when a shark joined the party.  EVERYONE loved it (honest, it wasn’t just me)! 

View from a junk (taken by my husband)... I have a tonne of junk pictures, but I didn't think people would appreciate pictures of themselves in bikinis on my blog.

1. Black Rainstorm Days and Typhoon Days

I bet you never expected to see me put something about storms as #1 on a list of things I love!  Well, this is my first black rainstorm day and so far, it’s great.  I woke up at 4:30 in the morning and was absolutely terrified by the thunder and lightning.  Those who know me well know that when there is a storm, I revert back to my inner three year old, cry, rock back and forth and hide under my blankets until it goes away.  So at 4:30, I decided to get up a bit earlier for work so I could wait for a cab in the lobby instead of taking the 5 minute walk to work.  To my surprise, I woke up a few hours later to a Facebook message from my co-worker saying work was cancelled due to the ‘black rainstorm warning signal’.  Yay!  I can now bask in my pajamas all day in the comfort and safety of my living room.  Outside, however, a black rainstorm means that we are getting more than 70 mm of rain per hour, with heavy gusts of wind, and lots of thunder and lightning. Yuen Long also has a flood warning.  I was hesitant to put this at #1 on my list because while I am safe in my 39^th story penthouse, I know there are people in small village houses, lean-to homes made of aluminum, and floating villages hoisted up on bamboo poles in the sea.  So despite the fact that I’m enjoying this day off work, let’s hope and pray that everyone can remain safe and dry today. 

****If you’d like to hear about any of these Top Ten in more detail (complete with lots of pictures), let me know and I’ll do a whole blog entry on it.  Umm, don’t choose #10 though.  It’s a boring topic and that’s pretty much all I have to say on the matter.****