Got That Summertime Sadness

This is a rather disorganized stream of consciousness. Enjoy, or yell at me for lack of editing. But here it is in all its glory. Warning: I talk about religion.

Yes I know it’s now autumn approaching winter. But this is currently the track stuck in my head. No actually I haven’t watched Gatsby. No actually I still haven’t finished the novel since 11^th grade – but hey. What a great city to reflect on that luxury, Shanghai.

I had every intention of reflecting on my four days in Bangkok, and then reflecting on the acquisition of a blue couch, and then reflecting…bother. This will all be one jumble instead of separate, cleanly divided thoughts. Live messy.

I spent four days in Bangkok over the October holiday for Chinese National day. If you’d like an explanation of the Chinese holiday calendar – might I suggest reading: http://www.bjreview.com.cn/nation/txt/2013-10/14/content_572077.htm or

http://blogs.wsj.com/chinarealtime/2010/09/17/china-holiday-schedule-is-hard-work/ Both indicate this is possibly the most complicated Chinese holiday/work day schedule ever, or at least for 500 years. And actually, our school, and many other work places, modified this schedule further still, so figuring out when your friends are working and when they are free has been a big free for all. And yes, we’ve had some Saturday workdays – though we have yet to have a Sunday – there is one Sunday workday in a few months, another Saturday/six day workweek in November. Woo! Go team! Confused? Me too.

So I went to Bangkok. Part nostalgia and part I have loose ends to wrap up and what not. It was a good visit. I got to see some friends. Still missed some people I would have liked to see again. But overall, despite my nostalgia, in many ways, it helped me remember why I left, too. And it helped me wrap up enough loose ends to feel like that chapter is closed, (though not everything). Some things may just be left hanging, such is life. I have no belongings left in Bangkok that I intend to retrieve; I cut down and gave away some more before returning to Shanghai. That’s all done. It’s a relief.
And even on days I long for my balcony, my mango tree and staring up at the stars, in the words of a dear friend, “we knew it was time for you to go.” Bangkok will always have a special place in my heart. But the ways I changed and grew in that city, up to the point I felt I hit a wall – challenged me in ways I never expected. I expect no less from Shanghai.

“…Nothing scares me any more. Kiss me hard before you go, Summertime Sadness, I just wanted you to know, that baby you’re the best.”

On to the domesticity of the couch, then. I distinctly remember a time when I thought to myself, I’m so close to college graduation, and when I get out, get my job and my own apartment (HA like it’s just another check box, it’s not that simple dear) – I’m going to get a couch. I’m going to get a huge couch, a deep-seated couch, maybe denim, not classy but supremely comfortable – and when I own a couch, I will be an adult, I will have ‘made it.’
HA! Well folks, it took me a few more years than I planned, and I’ve moved past that silly metric of adulthood or ‘making it,’ but nonetheless, I purchased a turquoise IKEA couch last week. I had it delivered, and then I assembled it all on my own. Really not that hard, even if it took some effort. And I sat on my couch and thought, well now Jenny, you have your couch. This isn’t quite what you expected, (although somewhat satisfying), now is it?
So glad I bit the bullet and did it last week – despite my aversion to debt, my new friend and colleague has a point – the longer you put it off, the less time you have to enjoy it. My current furniture shopping spree will be paid off in less than three months. Would be sooner, except for the particulars of International wire transfer I’m working under. Don’t ask questions, I got this. In the meantime I have a couch to sit on. Sometimes, money is just for spending. Within reason. But money is a made up construct, like so many things – who is setting the rules any way? I have a couch and I am slightly more comfortable, if not outright happy, for it. Ah, consumption. Enough on money matters today.
Transition? We don’t need no stinking transition. Brain doesn’t have those.

On cognitive dissonance in every day life: So, I’ve alluded to having some difficulty adjusting to life in China, and how actually, it’s less to do with China than other factors. Let’s discuss this. A lot of it has to do with religion. If you know me well enough, you will know that, when forced into a corner (or when asked in a moving taxi) and told to pick a label, I will go with “maybe?” or really, agnostic, but I’d really rather not play with labels or take sides. And with that, I’m supremely uncomfortable with conservative Christianity, as well as very hard line atheism, when directly confronted on the issue. It’s a rock and a hard place for me, in a Communist country where the rules about religion have eased in recent years, but are still certainly very much in place, to be surrounded by so much religion. And neither am I comfortable with those who outright shun it rather than politely side step. In the words of Ira Glass, “this is not what I signed up for.”
Really, honestly – I like the thought that, “there is no reason for the Lord Buddha and the Lord Jesus to fight,” I prefer to sit on the fence than take sides. Call it cowardice or call it openness, call me a heretic. I think people should be kind to one another, and at times, I think in certain ways, religion can be used as emotional black mail. Just as the complete lack of it can be a guilt trip on one’s intelligence for belief, too. At the end of the day, the way I see it, what brings you peace is a useful thing. But you should strive to try not to make other people uncomfortable. There is a case for pushing people’s comfort zones, and there is a case for allowing people to live their lives at they see fit. For further thoughts on my view point, see the This American Life Podcast “Heretics,” about an Evangelical pastor that decides he no longer believes in hell, that Jesus’ death accounted for everyone whether they accept Jesus or not. It’s truly beautiful. Ok that’s my rant on religion, and clarification on why I’ve been feeling so torn up, in some respects.

Related to, but slightly different from above – I’ve realized that sometimes, when you think something has been put in your path for you to learn a lesson – maybe there is someone that needs to learn from you. I told you, I’m agnostic, I prefer to look for some figment of reason, some spiritual alignment in the universe even if I’m a little too free spirited to enjoy organized religious worship or study, and even though I will argue for hours that not everything has ‘a reason,’ there is randomness and entropy we are subjected to in this life, as there are moments that are not coincidence, too. I will have my cake and eat it too.
Over the past few days, some of my cognitive dissonance and discontent has been challenged in other ways. It is so hard, and so taxing to have to think about who I can talk to about what – whether it is religious in nature, about our Chinese tax reporting, or otherwise. It is such a game of masks and I hate that. I am not unfamiliar with wearing masks, and it would be present in my home culture, whether there was this level of dissonance or not. But it’s nice to see a break in the muck at times, to see, here is a place I can help, here is a place I can grow, too, and be genuine, be me.

We don’t need no stinking transitions!
A week ago, I severely injured my right ankle. After spending so much of last year struggling with my left foot and then my back, I’ve been supremely frustrated. Being someone that prides herself on independence and ‘doing it myself,’ and living in a culture that doesn’t necessarily ‘do’ handicap accessible – it’s extremely frustrating. That all I did was miss a stair in the dark and ‘bam,’ that is the most frustrating (nevermind the financial implications and setback to my savings plan). The gossip at my place of employment, whether extreme or mild – is also disconcerting.

In some ways, I wish I had written before my injury, to get more of the philosophical musing down before the hard line ‘and so it goes.’

I knew this chapter of my adventure would not be easy. It is a new country for me, an adjustment to so much. I just didn’t forsee quite this level. I guess that is how it always is. But I will not say “That’s just life,” I’ve decided I hate that phrase with a passion. Why do I hate that phrase with a passion? As I reflect on the one year anniversary of a dear friend’s suicide, just 2 days ago was that anniversary– it’s because of this: when someone is truly, truly down and nearly out – the phrase “that’s just life,” plays to the destructive thought “well then why am I living, if this is all there is?” Perhaps that sounds too extreme, too sensitive. But if I’ve learned anything the last year, as I’ve faced my cognitive dissonance, culture incongruence, physical and emotional pain – it’s that the simple things matter. It matters from having the means to obtain healthy food, to the day or hours by which you miss a friend in passing during travel, to the slightest sentence – it matters. Don’t pressurize it, but don’t trivialize it, because it matters.

I’ve managed to reflect on nostalgia when moving, the domesticity of buying furniture and briefly, human consumption and debt, religious incongruence, and my injury and difficulty asking for help. Yeah – you could say I couldn’t pick a topic today. If you followed along with me, congrats, if you think I’m nuts – well if you’ve read this far you knew that by now, didn’t you?

“Nothing scares me any more, kiss me hard before you go.”

Reflections of Grief

Alright, that’s it. That’s death number three in four months. And if you go back to April, you can count the family dog as number four.

But this most recent loss has shaken me up the most.
Grandpa died peacefully in his sleep.
The other unexpected death was unnerving, and I pushed through and put on my “I’m strong I can deal with this mask,” like I always do. Skip mascara, just in case.

This past Friday morning (Bangkok time) felt like being kick boxed in the sternum.

I have lost the friend that has been my biggest supporter since moving to Bangkok, the most frequently in contact, and someone I thought was going to be a positive force in my life for decades to come. I have lost a mentor and friend for whom I held deep respect – and for whom I still can’t quite process what’s happened to the past few months.

Since August, when my friend’s trouble began, we’d been in touch even more regularly. The past month, we were in email contact daily.

This past Thursday morning, I was a righteous grump at morning assembly. Frustrations with work, Bangkok life, the American elections, the list goes on. But more than that – my friend hadn’t emailed. I think I already sensed something was gravely wrong. I wish I were wrong. I was still making up other possible scenarios, putting it off. It’s just as well I went straight to bed on Thursday – at least I got a full night’s sleep first.

Anyone that moves to another country has a reason, or multiple reasons for it. A big reason that many leave the shores of their homeland that we often don’t admit to is grief. Everyone has a story – whether economic or emotional, for being so far from ‘home.’

When my entire family was grieving, I felt smothered. I felt blamed. I felt trapped. I could not find the space to heal on my own without carving it out for myself, far far from home. I have felt deep seeded wanderlust, I have felt a specific curiosity about Asia, and Thailand alone. I do not wish to repeat the mistakes of so many who regret not traveling more in their youth. I needed to follow the opportunity placed before me for experience in teaching, and seeing things from a view other than that of Middle America. But if I’m truly honest – I needed to grieve.

Thailand offers lots of methods for placating what ails you – sunshine, beaches, jungle huts, alcohol, illicit substances, medical tourism, sex tourism, Buddhist meditation, Thai massage, aromatherapy, retail therapy – the list goes on. Surely something on the list suits most everyone.

What’s interesting to me – is how determined I was to create the space for myself to heal, and how far I’ve come – yet how much at this moment, I really and truly am the most homesick I’ve felt since arriving here. Unlike before, when I felt the pressure of family smothering me – with the loss of my dear friend – I want nothing more than to be with the people I knew in college, the family I felt so oppressed by as we each found our own paths to grieve.

And it’s a reminder, too, of what we cannot take for granted. Of all the people that I thought might commit suicide, that I worried about – I never, ever imagined he would. I cannot imagine what he went through these past nine weeks prior to his death – the doctor’s visits, the lack of answers – or feel what the flood of medications made him feel. And it’s not my place to reveal more of his story here. But to try and remember the human compassion we so often reminded each other we denied ourselves in our hyperactive self-criticism; especially at this moment to allow for the grace of human kindness and at the least – an end of great suffering.

In a couple of days, it will be my two-year anniversary of living in Bangkok. I’ve been planning a blog post for that day for over a year and a half, whatever form it may take; or whether it may be late – or not what I thought given my current state of mind.

I will be ‘home’ at Christmas and New Years – whichever zip code or couch crashing spot I may find myself in. And I’ll be paying my respects several times, it appears.

Shortly before his death, my friend told me I’m one of the strongest and kindest people he has ever known. For once – I accept the compliment, and believe it – instead of slicing it to bits and questioning myself about how it’s not correct, how I still just don’t measure up. Life is too short. And there is no such thing as being perfect – especially if being perfect comes without being happy.

Everyone grieves differently. Each grief adds a new depth to the loss one has experienced before. I’m not sure you ever really ‘get over it,’ but you learn to move forward, and upward. Like hiking Mount Baldy – the sand dune – one step up, half a step back. You keep going.

I’m not going to say I’m thankful, for this loss, or that all things happen for a reason. I hate those sayings. But it’s certainly been a wake up call in my quest of figuring out my life purpose, and soldiering forward on the path of figuring out when I am happy and what I really, deep down am passionate about. So many days I doubt I’ve really quite felt it out yet, my real driving passion – which is exhilarating, terrifying, and normal. I guess. But I do know that hinging one’s sense of self too heavily on one passion or identity is entirely too dangerous; and the flexibility, some say the inability to make decisions and focus – is a great gift in itself. When you can change, you can survive. Hopefully, you can thrive.

It’s about 6pm and with the massive storm clouds rolling in it’s pitch black outside. I could use a little more sunlight – but maybe once the thunder and lightning hits, it’ll feel like back home in Indiana.

So many people, including the friend lost unexpectedly in July, say “do it now.” And yes – you should do something, now. But you cannot do everything ‘now,’ and if the simple mandate to ‘do it now’ causes you anxiety – learn to live, and change, and move forward – but grant yourself the grace to slow down, and to let yourself heal, and to tell yourself “you’re already a great person, and this world needs you, even if in this moment, you just need the world.” Gah now I feel like I’ve gone all mushy. Don’t worry, the world needs my sarcasm and it will be back in short order. But it’s also true, what was said to me recently: “you’re using all your energy to keep up this mask, and you don’t have any energy left to give.” Well, there. Defenses down. Ok?

I’m kind, and I’m strong – and today I’m admitting that the two are not always mutually exclusive as I’m just trying to be kind to myself.

Ultimately, I believe this loss will shape the artwork I create, the continued education I pursue, and add some good hard scar tissue to both qualities my friend felt I possess, strength and kindness.

To all my dear friends and family – near and far, in and out of touch – I love you, I miss you. And when I’m far away, I think of you fondly.

All The Single Ladies

Justifying Life as a Single Female Expat

I really just have to write this post. It’s something all expats deal with to some extent, and it’s an issue that doesn’t stop bothering me. If you dislike sarcasm or reading posts with any cynicism or negativity, skip this one. I can only be who I am. But I feel my message is important.

1: If I were an American deployed in the military, I would have full support for being away. Regardless of your position on American foreign policy, it’s just too taboo to say otherwise about our men and women in uniform. Well, unless they are women that have been raped by their peers, then they were asking for it and we shouldn’t have to pay for them to receive counseling. *shakes head at the state of things* But really, my point stands: If I were deployed I bet not ONE person would have the guts to call me selfish or guilt trip me about not coming home more often. Because I’m making sacrifices for my country, so I must not be selfish.

2: If I were abroad following my husband. If I were married and my husband was transferred abroad, or if I moved abroad in order to marry someone, people might try and talk HIM out of it or talk him into moving to the US, but I would have full support. Oh, the poor expat wife, it must be sooo hard for you to be off in a foreign land where not all of the toilets are Western and the taxis don’t have seatbelts! The horror! And if you have kids: have you found a suitable International school? Will the kid’s education suffer? Newsflash: the idea that women can’t pee standing up is a lie. And guess what else? Urine does not carry diseases (95% of the time or so). As for education – don’t get me started on the state education being systematically dismantled.

3: If you’re just taking a ‘gap year’ to ‘find yourself.’ Oh kids today, they’ve just gotta get the travel bug out of their systems before they come home and ‘get their real job.’ It’s just a phase, they’ll grow out of it.

Tell me again, what’s a real job? How about a fake job? My personal take on the semantics of this is that no job is ‘real,’ because we all aspire to attain a perfect job that doesn’t really exist. Other views include the idea that all jobs are real – because, truly, when is valid employment NOT real? I added the qualifier of ‘valid,’ there are certainly scams out there.

4. And then there’s the rest of us. The Misfits. The true traitors of our country who dare to stay abroad for more than one year. There must be something pathologically wrong with us to stay away from the great First World Pillars of the planet, the land of milk and honey. The Patriot Act says so. Oh it doesn’t say that? Well do you know what it does say? That’s what I thought. Also, I’m lactose intolerant and it’s more like the land of subsidized high fructose corn syrup and cheap laundered Chinese honey. I know I know, there she goes again with her cynicism… Really though, the expat crowd, we’re all off our rockers. Every last one. Maybe we have neurosyphilis. Yes, yes we must test expats for that annually! Sluts, the lot of them! With dollar signs on their foreheads!

WHAT?!?! You’re not coming home?!?!? WHY?!?!
Uh, can I even get a job at Starbucks at ‘home?’ NO!
Do you realize it takes me exactly one month’s salary for that round trip ticket?
Do you have any concept of how a Thai Government school calendar operates? Yes I no longer work at a Thai government school. See point one, add relocation, visa reapplication and haven’t gotten my next paycheck yet costs. Consider this along with plane ticket.

But, is it safe for you to be abroad as a single female?
Seriously? Really seriously? Would you like me to pull up the crime statistics for YOUR city? That’s what I thought.

But you’re living in a third world country!
I have better access to health care here than I do anywhere in the United States. And if push really comes to shove, they can see me for cash. This has served me many times, where in the states I would have had to rush back to my mother to beg for grocery money when the medical bills came due (on her health insurance at the time, to boot).
I have greater access to public transport than I’ve had in any other place I’ve lived. I get on just fine with no car.

But, you could make more money in the US!
Again, working where, exactly, that would hire me in my field and that I would be happy doing, and that would provide health care and an actual living wage? There are millions of Americans that would like to know. McDonald’s is not a valid response to someone with a Bachelor’s degree. Your mom will give you money or you can save money by living at home is also not a valid concept for a 20 something when there are clear alternatives available. Not sorry they are abroad. If you’re a 20 something at your parents, I’m sorry – and I understand your pain, fellow graduate of the Great Recession. We’ll make it through.

But, how are you going to find a boyfriend? Why can’t you find a boyfriend there?
Again, this is your concern why? And that worked out so well in every case in the states, didn’t it? You know, it’s kind of nice to just book a flight to Chiang Mai and just go. I require permission from no man. If I were to get married, I would simply forfeit my rights to sign for many things on my own without my husband’s permission in many countries. I want to do that why? Last time I checked possession of a vagina is not considered a mental disorder (well, unless you were born with a penis in Thailand, then the Thai military DOES classify this as a mental disorder). Though I wouldn’t put it past the Republicans.

But, you keep getting sick!
And this is different from my life in America how? Right, in that I can afford to go to the doctor here, they speak English and the quality of care is just fine.

But, America has the best sandwiches!
Life is about sacrifices.

I realize that most American citizens will probably never understand my expat life. I will still be asked when I plan to come home, when I’m finding a boyfriend/getting married/getting pregnant (a global curse), when I’m going to grad school and I will still constantly be asked why I left the US in the first place.

I will be told to be more positive about my travel adventures; to tone it down, calm down, there will always be unsolicited advice. But you know what? I’m living a life that I am proud of. Can you say that? Or are you living vicariously through people that are following dreams you turned down or gave up? Well-behaved women rarely make history. And living your dreams does not play out in the utopian way that non-lived dreams are authored.

I’d like you to consider the fact that you would not question someone in the military, a married woman or a single male going abroad (at least not as much as us ladies), so effectively, you’re sabotaging the support network of us single ladies abroad when you ask these things and nothing else – and frankly, we would like the same support everyone else gets. We know things like the glass ceiling, sexual harassment, and unequal rights aren’t going away. But do we have to get the unintended, brain washed comments from those who care for us, whom we care for? I bet you’ve never thought of those questions that way. But think about how you’d feel if these queries comprised 90% of your communication from back ‘home.’ Does that compose 90% of your daily conversations? No, it doesn’t.

I’m sorry you made other choices in life, I’m sorry you wished you could travel, wished you were young, wished you hadn’t had kids, whatever. But that is your choice. And this is mine. I am not selfish. I am not unsafe. And I’ve done alright even as I’ve learned that people in my home country may never understand, and as my support network has retreated inwards and I’ve had to move on. I admit it bothers me now, to think that so many people I care about simply do not have the frame of reference or common experience to connect on the new levels I have found. I don’t mean to attack anyone’s lack of experience. And I realize to some, this will just be seen as more whining.

But I hope that perhaps you will start to understand the fact that, perhaps there is great misunderstanding even when you mean well. And the fact that I’ve chosen to lead a life quite different is simply that – different.

And I will never have to say, I wish I had traveled instead. Will you?