Just two dollars

At first I thought she was asking to borrow my phone, but when I asked her again, she said, "Do you have two dollars?" She spoke in a low voice, almost a mumble. Her hair was dyed red and she was wearing a gray t-shirt and basketball shorts. She looked like someone I might run into at Target or Wal-Mart, just any other person picking up a few necessities in life.

I quickly, maybe too cheerfully, asked if she needed "some groceries or something", but she said No, just two dollars so she could get something at Carl's Junior as she glanced across the parking lot. My instinct was to offer to go with her so I could buy her something (how many people tell us this is the right thing to do?), but something felt off about walking with her all the way across the parking lot. And my gut was telling me something else. Even flipping through my wallet, I knew I had a good amount of cash with me, even the exact two dollars she asked for. My instinct handed her a five instead. She said thank you.

So I walk into Raley's to deposit my checks from the past couple weeks, mulling thoughts of generosity and giving and trusting God with your money and the thought that, sometimes, you do give without knowing where it goes. And I remember that I haven't been as generous lately.

But seeing her when I walked out of the store a few short minutes later replaced those thoughts of generosity with ones of suspicion. Why was she still there? Was $2 not enough for a meal? What if she didn't really want food? Why would she be collecting money? Drugs? Trafficking? Just need money for rent? The thought crosses my mind that we so often assume the worst of strangers, homeless, anyone who asks for money. And that maybe I am thinking the worst of her when she may just be a little short of income this month. I don't know. My gut five minutes ago thought giving her a five was a good idea.

Bilingual

I speak Chinese with the Taiwanese international students, laughing over phrases as we try to teach a few students to play mah jongg. We make confused faces when we get stuck, as Ying looks to me for an English translation and I apologize because I have no idea either. I compliment him on his ability to teach a game with many parts; with a big smile, he says it's his first time, and his bright face says he had fun.

The sentences, encouragements, expressions flow out with ease. Aware that no one else knows what we're saying, I translate bits and pieces to the friends around me. But part of me doesn't really care today. I speak with pride. Not the guess-what-I'm-saying-about-you pride of fifth grade, but the pride of a language that boasts intricate characters and a culture that these friends have yet to learn. I carry not just the sounds, words, and tones; but also the mannerisms, politeness, and slang of a whole group of people.

"So, do you speak another language?," a few students ask, an obvious leading question into a conversation of what they never knew about me. I am mildly amused that a handful of them had no idea my first language wasn't English, that I'm fluent in Mandarin. I wonder what it looked like: All of a sudden, it's  I'm fully conversing in another language, like a code they weren't aware I knew. Code-switching happening right before their very eyes. And there's so much more that they don't know.

But it starts here: today they know a little more. Today, in a natural, uncalculated interaction with our new Taiwanese friends, I just let them into a little more of my life. In a slightly dramatic yet very true way, it's like they don't really know me if they don't this part of me exists. But it does. I answer the questions, I tell them my parents emigrated and I am from a first-generation family, I tell them how my parents know four dialects in Chinese and try to get them to say, "poang!" in mah jong to steal a tile they want.

I spend a majority of my life now with people who expect only English from me. Ever since I moved out of the bay, it catches me off guard every time I walk into a Chinese restaurant and have to decide what language I'm going to use. But today felt a little like home, even though ironically, it was the Taiwanese-born students I never quite fit in with in high school (my accent was hilarious to them). Without the Bay Area expectation that everyone knows the native tongue, my ability to speak is a gift, a joy, a surprise to both Taiwanese and American friends. And I speak it with joy, thankful for the gift of a native tongue.

______________________________
Related: Mom says: 'Learn Chinese."

Why the Boston Marathon?

My brothers and I are runners. We are not highly competitive, but we love it. We run to run, not just to train or practice. We have all completed a half marathon, and my second one is coming up in three weeks. We know the exhilaration of a race, the push to the finish. The crowd watching, cheering.

I usually don't have much to say about news-breaking tragedies. Enough words are out there, too many questions and no answers. But this one, while on the other side of the coast...it's like I can feel the echoes, or something. I would never dream to run at the elite level of those who qualify for the Boston Marathon. But they are runners. I am a runner.

Of all things. Not that bombs, explosions, or terrorism is ever justified, ever has an answer. But why the Boston Marathon? Why a race? Why top notch athletes? Because the city loves it and the citizens cheer? Is it to break down morale?

I am perusing the page of the running club I'm training with tomorrow. They had five runners there, all safe. In three weeks I run a far less competitive race, half the distance. No doubt we will be thinking of you.

Haunting faint echoes.

Addicted to the Internet: A Confession

Turning on my computer is one of the first things I do when I wake up. I check stuff--gmail, facebook, blogs, etc--first thing in the morning, even when I know I won't actually do anything (quick email replies, answer questions, read any articles in-depth) on that first round. I turn it on even when I know I'll be on my computer for a longer period of time later that day; e.g, going online before a morning run even if I'll look at the exact same stuff later that morning when I get to work.

I am full of excuses. I need the computer for work. I just want it for music. I'm looking up a recipe. I'm looking up directions. I'm a tech-innovation-ideas-sort-of-geek, always keeping up with the latest ideas or prototypes. I'm a thinker, collecting perspectives and facts and knowledge through endless blogs shared by colleagues I respect. I'm a learner, reading DIY posts or how-to's or why-not's to collect thoughts for a future project that hasn't been imagined yet. I'm a remember, looking up details and rereading words because I don't want to forget. I collect resources, looking up everything and anything and stumbling across many things that have eventually been useful later on.
Really, I do need the computer for a lot of things.

But really-really, most of the stuff I absorb is unnecessary. Filler. Like packaging peanuts, filling minutes and hours with endless articles, videos, photos, statuses. I absorb more content than will ever be useful.

I like to hide the fact that I'm horribly addicted. It helps that I have no smartphone so I can still make snarky remarks about people who are always updating their facebook or instagramming. Even on facebook alone: I don't update my status every day, I don't "like" every shared piece...but it's really a guise, hiding the fact that I scroll through my whole news feed, reading statuses of people I don't even really keep in contact with, skimming numerous articles and comments without ever responding. It helps that my internet time is spread on an array of interests: blogs, photographers, journalists, recipes, pinterest, DIY projects. Spread out so no one collects how much it really amounts to...except maybe those close to me, who hear enough "I read...I watched...Someone posted..." that they know I'm on way too much for my own good.

But I've wasted enough time. I don't want to be glued to my laptop, I know know know there are so many projects I would love to do if I would just turn off my computer for once (it's not like I'm lacking a hobby). I know there is so much ministry to-do's and admin that I need my computer, but I also know that I love being productive and love long afternoons of getting work done instead of "holy smokes, I just clicked and read things for three hours....embarrassing." I know I would sleep a lot more (sans calls from the bf) if I didn't stay up surfing sites and reading stuff.

For starters. For one day every week, I will turn off my laptop. This means from night time the day before to morning the day after, so I don't even touch my laptop for that full day. I've done this by choice twice in the past month and it means I don't try to multitask while babysitting (which is actually a pretty bad idea), cooking without a recipe (or postponing curry chicken for another night), and spending my 45 minute break at home.........breathing. Sitting on the couch, listening to the Giants game on the radio, flipping through recipe books, or sitting in silence. It's an active choice to fight against our social media world of Right Now: that email can wait a day, I don't actually need to know people's responses right away, I might be later on whatever the big "shared article" is for the week, I don't have to turn on youtube because I want to hear the song that's in my head this very moment.

I did this on a Sabbath a few weeks ago and it was delightful: the day before I had thought of ideas for that day and had looked up a few potential coffeeshops I wanted to try, but even if I hadn't, a map or a revisit to Old Soul would have sufficed. At the end of the day, I found myself in bed at 10 pm because I didn't feel like reading or writing and realized...hey, it's been a full day and nothing's keeping me from going to bed.

I left off my laptop again yesterday after talking with the best friend about my antsy unproductive weekend (see previous post). And yesterday, I had seven hours of babysitting and a student meeting on campus, which is essentially an 8 hour workday already. Choosing to keep my computer off was making a statement: I have worked enough for the day. I don't need to try to even to my little to-do's on the list because that can wait. I can rest after a full work day.

Choosing to unplug (at least from my laptop, which is the main culprit!) once a week is a good choice that I hope I will adopt indefinitely...practicing it for the rest of my life honestly doesn't sound like a horrible idea.

There is much more to be said about this topic, and we'll see if I get to writing them out. But in all honesty, I think I feel a bit of a relief in taking this first step to an annoying, embarrassing problem that I'm just tired of. I want to enjoy the resources of the internet and the usefulness of technology...but enough with it taking up too much of my life.

(I'm not even going to tell you how many other things I've read or looked up in the writing of this post. Sigh.)

Just one of those weeks

When it feels like you can't get anything done, despite having plenty of time to do so.
Possible reasons:

-Still sleep deprived, yet not napping or consciously trying to make up for it
-pms
-does unmotivated procrastination count?
-need goal-check reminder
-too much time therefore not enough pressure?
-not enough healthy friend time/fun time during the week
-weather - mostly because the wind and gloom makes me chicken out and not go for a run, which means I don't get the post-run endorphins and instead I sit around all afternoon trying to work
-depressing re-realization of facebook/internet addiction (there, I said it)

Go away, annoying funk! I want to cross things off my to-do list and enjoy doing so!

My Chinese Kitchen

Dear goodness. Sometimes I am so proud of my cooking. This beef, green onion, and ginger dish is delicious.

It's also my first time cooking in the wok, and dang does that thing smoke up! The internet is scaring me with all the "Make sure you season your wok right" and "Take care of your wok!" articles, and I'm really not sure I did it right. But hopefully my new (which I bought two months ago but never used) kitchen toy won't rust and I shall keep trying out classic Chinese yum-ness to eat at home.

"If it's worth eating, it's worth making." This is the quote I remember through the kitchen prep and dishes afterwards. Also when I savor the delicious bites of tender beef and seasoned ginger in my mouth. So much yum.

I roughly followed this recipe. I tried it with a small splash of rice vinegar since I don't have rice wine, so it tastes a little like mom's suan cuai (sour vegetable) dish.