Weather Forecast

I have stopped complaining about the weather here. This has happened for two reasons.

1. I start to think about people in the Midwest who are engaging in one of my least favorite activities, scraping ice off car windshields. 
2. This is the conversation that follows whenever I do complain.
• Me: It sure is hot here!
• Wise local who has been here far longer than me and is well aware that it is about to get much worse: Ha!

       From the way they talk about the approaching heat, I'm starting to wonder if I would welcome ice-scraping in its place, a thought that suggests my brain has already been addled. I've started to prepare now. Since it was a cool 95 degrees yesterday, I wore a sweater, even while I walked around outside. I tell myself that it will feel refreshing when I stop wearing sweaters during the hot season. My logic here is unshakable. Don't question it. 

       The hot season is not the only legendary phenomenon here. People have been trying to prepare me for the rainy season as well. From what they tell me, the type of hourly precipitation I am imagining can only be accurately compared to Niagara Falls. It appears that it makes no difference that Laos is a landlocked country. According to my predictions, there will be enough water to swim in the streets. I hope the Niagara Falls tour guides are here to hand out ponchos.

Pity Party Postponed

       I think some people worried when I mentioned I was moving to Laos. Let me drive that worry away once and for all, or momentarily, depending on how prone you are to anxiety. I'd like to debunk the idea that I may be washing my clothes in the Mekong River or bartering for food.

       I woke up this morning and ate a chocolate croissant. Then I read through underlined, beloved segments of my favorite book, Nomad's Hotel. It is the only book I have ever marked up with a pencil. I bought it at my favorite book store in New York City, and it is the sole book that has made the cut each and every time I've gone somewhere for an extended period of time. It has traveled in my suitcase to the Czech Republic, Scotland, Italy, and now Laos. In it, I find old postcards, playbills and ticket stubs that bring me back to Venice or Prague when they were used as bookmarks. Every time I read it, a different thought speaks to me depending on where I am at the time or what has happened in my life since the last time I read it. When the pencil marks start to wear off, I read through and darken them again. It provides a connecting link between my destinations. 

       After reading and pondering over literature, I got an hour long foot massage for six dollars. Then I drank a banana frappe. And that's Thursday. 

Communication: Made Possible By Skype

       Sometimes I marvel at my good fortune. Today, I found my way around my new city, only getting lost a time or two, and then only for a couple of minutes. I learned a couple new words in Lao. I drank coffee. Then, when it seemed that the only thing that could perfectly top off the day would be to fall asleep, I talked to a roomful of about 70 second graders in Indiana.
       I thought about complaining that the internet connection was poor, meaning that we typed most of our questions and answers to one another instead of seeing faces. Then I remembered that until only recently, a journey such as mine was truly isolating. The very thought of instantaneous communication between one person going through a bedtime ritual with another person, one who is finishing up a morning routine at that exact time, was unthinkable. I occasionally mention that it would be liberating to untie myself from technology, but then my decisions to move around the globe would be much more difficult to justify.
       We discussed food, transportation, and the shocking lack of video games in my life. I talked about how much rice I now consume, and I confessed to eating ice cream quite frequently, okay daily, to cope with the heat. Also, because it's delicious, and I'm supporting the economy.
       What is more important than these topics, and what I hope my students will learn, is the fact that there was any communication at all. I don't only mean communication between a teacher and her students who happen to miss each other, but between people who are living differently. How can I expect everyone to value what is unknown and strange to them unless I tell them how rewarding it is to feel a little displaced sometimes? The benefits of throwing yourself into a different way of life far outweigh the time it takes to feel normal again. I fear the people who assume that their way of life is the only way of life.
       It was comforting to hear their voices, even for a few moments. I was so thankful that they had so many questions, because it meant that they are trying to understand. They are trying to imagine life in a context other than what is familar to them. To hear curiosity buzzing around them gave me hope that people will continue to communicate across borders. And when there is ice cream on both sides, I don't really see why there would be any holdup.

Year 24 Day 1

       When my plane touched down late last night, I felt a warm affection for Thailand. When I say "warm," I mean it in the figurative sense, of course. Even more so, I mean it in the literal. If you're a fan of heat, we could say that it settles like the warmest down comforter you've ever felt. If you're not a fan of heat, we could say it hits you like a bus.

       Either way, I was thrilled to be in the same country as my elephant again, though I will have to return later to pay her a visit. After only a few hours in Bangkok, it was time to meet my new hometown, Vientiane, Laos. Even after one evening here, I am hooked.

       Vientiane is a small city when compared to other capital cities. There are no skyscrapers and no malls. Despite it's condensed size, it is extremely diverse and represents many international cultures. In the span of a couple hours, I applied for my Laos visa, found cookies I haven't been able to find outside Great Britain, ate a smorgasbord of Italian food, and finished the evening with coffee Haagen-Dazs. If you we're worried about me at all, please note that I can buy Betty Crocker chocolate cake mix if I get homesick. 

       However, with my stay here, I am really looking forward to figuring out what is distinctly Vientiane. I've already seen a small picture, but I'm itching to discover more. I'd say though, for the first day of my 24th year of life, it's time for bed. 

Ocean View

I looked out to sea after sunset, and this was, no joke, my first view of the scenic Japanese coastline.

Sagami Bay

Tokyo Days

January 26, 2013

My dear students,

       

       A couple of nights ago, I woke up while it was still dark, looked at the clock, did a little calculating, and realized that you were in art class. It was a strange feeling, knowing that I could picture your day, but knowing that you probably can't even begin to picture mine. I suppose it's time that I fill you in. 

       I haven't fallen into any routines yet, as I still have not reached Laos. I've been getting to know Tokyo, which, as it is the largest metropolitan area of the world, takes some time. I did my typical routine, hitting as many major sites in one day as possible, and I managed to buy souvenirs at the base of a temple, stroll through shopping malls devoted entirely to electronics, listen to vendors shout out for me to buy their seafood, and maneuver through the complex maze of trains and subways.

       Japan has vending machines with both cold and hot drinks, and I obviously found the coffee drinks to buy and sip while standing in the crowded trains. I've practiced the art of smiling and nodding along when I have absolutely no clue what people are saying to me, and I've almost learned how to tell how expensive something is when its price is listed in Japanese yen. (If you're wondering, there are about 90 yen in one dollar. Try adding that to a chart in Number Corner.) 

       My chopstick-wielding skills are still improving, and I managed to eat even a salad with them today. I also admitted to thinking a dish was delicious before finding out that the crunching was not only the lettuce, but squid tentacles. Ignorance surely is bliss, and I may or may not look more closely at my food from now on. Maybe I don't always want to know what's in it. 

       No matter what each day brings, I wake up excited for the possibilities. When the day ends, I go to bed exhausted but happy, and apparently full of squids. Isn't that really what life is all about? 

Sincerely,

Miss Ross

Top row, first two on the left. That's the good stuff. 

       

Chapter 1

1/21/13

My Dear Students,

       Tomorrow is the beginning of new adventures for all of us. For you comes a new teacher, bringing new ideas, new experiences, and new opportunities. For me comes a new country. To be honest, I’m not yet sure what all that brings, but I suppose I’m about to find out.
       My coffee machine has been stored away with the message “Coffee Maker, FRAGILE, PRECIOUS, DO NOT DROP” written on the box in Sharpie, just to be safe. One can never be too cautious about these things. Your letters to me are tucked safely in my backpack, and I will read them when I am missing Valparaiso.
       For the first week, I will be with family in Japan. Then, on my birthday, I will fly to my new home in Vientiane. I have never asked for a new address for my birthday, but I suppose there is a first time for everything. Maybe you should ask for an address in a foreign country for your next birthday too. The worst your parents could say is “No.”
       After that point, I really am not sure what to expect. So, right now, all I can do is triple check my to-do lists. Hopefully, they will be completed by the time I fly tomorrow, just as you are finishing your lunch. By the time I touch land again, you will be fast asleep, regaining energy to continue your new adventure. You will do wonderful things, and I only hope I can do the same.

Sincerely,

Miss Ross