New.

Happy 2012! Courtney, myself, and my two friends Allison and Estela, who are visiting for a week, had an awesome night here at the Seri Murni Crisis Shelter with 7 lovely women and 3 babies. Our festivities included a yummy fried chicken dinner, watching a concert and countdown in Kuala Lumpur on TV, making party hats, cheering and hugging each other when the clock struck, a Shirley Temple toast, delicioso brownies from our very own baker Courtney Ghirardelli, ice cream, and Goldfish crackers (supplied by Allison and Estela). It was the perfect way to welcome this new year.

As Hot Mama F. said in her toast, "To a new year and new beginnings."

I wanted to share part of a prayer that we were given at orientation. This prayer is called "Passover Remembered" by Alla Bozarth-Campbell and it continues to move me as it did the first time I experienced it.

It is the first of many beginnings.

Remain true to this mystery.

Pass on the Whole Story.

Do not go back.

I will guide you safely home

to that place you have not seen yet.

I am with you now

and I am waiting for you.

With glitter and hats and crying babies and chocolate brownies and Malaysian style dresses, sending you all much love and peace!

Snapshots of KK.

What's city life like for a GSV in Kota Kinabalu? I can't take pictures to show you what it's like here at the crisis center (unlike at the girls' hostel, where I took pictures galore), so I thought I would try to give you some written glimpses of what life has included the last several weeks. Pretend these are captions to pictures :)

- Playing Rummikub and Rummy with the women here is a favorite pastime for all of us. It's especially exciting when you're playing to pass the time til L. has to go to the hospital to give birth to her baby. L. stopping regularly to double over in pain as we can see the contractions going through her body.

- Making mandalas during a workshop with the women. D.'s is my favorite, with a picture of a waterfall, trees, birds, and fish. She explains that she often blames herself for what happened to her, but that right now she is calm and strong, like the waterfall.

- Hearing from fellow staff Pauline, a mother of three, about how she went to keep D. company at the labor room and wanted to faint because of all the crying, blood, and tearing.

- Seeing D. back here lying on her side in bed looking at her beautiful baby lying next to her. Emanating, manifesting, radiating love.

- Fellow staff Pat cutting her toenails on the office floor while 5 other staff chatter back and forth, count receipts, type away on the computers. That's the reality of living where you work!

- Looking for C. who had just arrived today. She jumped the gate and ran away. I can only imagine what it's like to come to this place for the first time and feel that you're giving your life up. Among the hundreds of other emotions. Overwhelming.

- Pauline telling me "Here Lara, try to breastfeed baby R.! Just try! Just let baby suck and something will happen." Oh Pauline, so silly, so grateful for you for keeping things light in this place.

- F. dancing during my sing-along/dance workshop (I don't know who decided it would be a good idea for me to lead these, but I do and love it). F.'s inner diva came out and she just let loose. She said she likes to dance but had forgotten how. Seems like she remembered quite quickly!

- Malay lesson with J. who can barely read and write. No, I'm not teaching anyone how to speak Malay! But I had a lot of thoughts about the intricacies of language and literacy and education during these 45 minutes. We went back and forth - me calling out the basic Malay words that I know and she carefully sounding, spelling, and writing them out. It's so interesting to think that even though I am so new to Malay, I can read it better than J. who is the fluent speaker. It's exciting to think that maybe J. will leave here more literate, especially with the help of English teacher Maureen.

- Doing an 80s style aerobics video with the women. The aerobics instructors in the video are 3 women in black, purple, and teal spandex - and pregnant bellies. Moves include "Tummy rub!" and "Jazz step!"

- Watching music videos on an MTVAsia series called "OK Karaoke!" They show music videos with the lyrics at the bottom, karaoke style. I now know that Adele is in fact saying "Sometimes it LASTS in love, but sometimes it hurts insteaaaaaad." I also now know that it's really really hard to sound out Korean words with the alphabet (there are a lot of Korean music videos on MTVAsia).

- Going to a candlelight vigil the last two weeks in support of the UN 16 Days of Action Against Violence Against Women. Made some really good friends, had some really good times. At the last vigil, my two new friends Carrey and Elton, who are vocal musicians, started belting, Broadway style, "Feliz Navidad" and "Price Tag" - "WE DON'T WANT YOUR MONEY, MONEY, MONEY, we just wanna make the world daaaance."

- Talking to a group of Filipino workers at the first night of the vigil. They were standing outside at the plaza we were at, taking a break from their massage parlor job. Two new Malaysian friends, June and Anne, are also half Filipina and we bonded with them over Filipino pride. Anne told me later about how immigrant workers like them are exploited and often forced to perform other sorts of jobs in those places.

- On a precious day off (we work a 6-day week) I went to the mall alone to buy mainly toiletries like soap and shampoo, but also, Ellen's new book "Seriously...I'm Kidding"!! So excited. Went to a lunch place called Havana and ordered a yummy burrito that came with french fries and was delicious, read my book, laughed out loud by myself. To top it all off, there was a group having a gathering and after they finished lunch they stood up at the entrance of the cafe and started singing Christmas carols. After they sung a couple songs, they went to everyone in the restaurant to shake hands and say "Merry Christmas." I was very amused and very happy with that.

That's all for now. Wishing you all some peace and joy in these December weeks. I'm definitely not in a wintery environment, but I am feeling the reflection/renewal/rebirth that is indicative of this time of year. Til next time! Peace and love out.

Andrew Torii.

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." - from "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac

So Andrew, I'm reading this book right now on Courtney's Kindle (which is cool, but definitely nowhere near as good as an actual book) and I wonder all the time if you'd like it. It reminds me of you and I told Court that I would probably like the book because of that. You once told me, after I had given you a second David Sedaris book as a present, that you actually don't like David Sedaris and that you and I had very different tastes in books. That really hit me at the time, and now years later, I think I've finally realized why. It was because I never bothered to ask you.

I know ultimately, it would be extremely ego-centric of me to blame myself for your leaving. That is, your decision was your decision alone. At the same time, I do believe that we affect each other, that we are all intertwined. I don't want this blog entry to be an apology, but an act of me trying to be present now to you, in ways I hadn't been before, wherever you are in the world.

Maybe you have changed your name. But I wanted to call out your name in this entry, because it is the only one I know for you. And I know we are still connected, somehow.

"Continue to call each other by the names I've given you, to help remember who you are. You will get where you are going by remembering who you are."

Maybe you have completely transformed. Maybe you have shrunk, expanded, stripped away, reinvented, in ways I couldn't have imagined. All the same, you are still you. With the same mind, body, soul. Everything you set out to find that lonely dark night, vibrating with the potential of silence, was and is within you.

It's been a year. After a year, I have come to realize that I am more your sister than I knew. I am more like you than I could have dreamed before all this had come to pass. I was nervous about today. At many times over the last twelve months, dates and the counting of time has figured so emotionally in my daily. But this morning, I feel calm. All the mad hopes and fears, all the burning desires still reside within me. But I am present. To the here and now. To me. To you.

Pregnant pause.

Courtney and I moved to our second placement, a women's crisis shelter in the city (Kota Kinabalu, capital of Sabah), last Wednesday. I'm sitting in our shared bedroom in this nice house, which serves as a secret location for pregnant women.

There are currently 10 women here in varying stages of their pregnancy. Some look like they're going to give birth tonight. Some have a couple more months to go. All are visibly pregnant. Some of them have been sent here against their will by their parents, because it's still very much taboo to be a young single mother. Some are here because of domestic violence. Some are here because they were raped. Their ages range from 16 to 36.

I really love all of them. Just like with the girls at the hostel, they are all so unique and it's been so fun getting to talk and hang out with them.

But when we first arrived, all I could see were pregnant bellies. And all I could think was, as if I'm not going to be emotional enough, I'm spending Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's here???

Of course, when I get out of my self-centered mindset, I feel very blessed to be here. For one, it's going to be a holiday season like no other, I'm sure. But more importantly, this is their life and I have been invited to share in that.

They are not allowed to have cell phones or use the Internet. Some of them may not see their families at Christmas, because their families might not come to visit (they're not allowed to go back home). I remind myself that whenever I feel suffocated from not having my own space. I remind myself that as I sit here in my room using the incredible wifi.

But I know life is not about comparing realities. What it is about is being together. I think these words from Pema Chodron will resonate especially for me here: "We don't set out to save the world; we set out to wonder how other people are doing and to reflect on how our actions affect other people's hearts."

A little story about what life is like here: On the third day we were here, I was on duty for the first time, Courtney was sent to the Good Shepherd microenterprise kitchen to help make Christmas cookies. On your first day on duty in this crisis shelter, you mostly just sit around and observe and wonder if you're in people's way. But that morning, a nurse also came to do a weekly medical talk with the women. She spoke mostly in Malay, so mostly I understood words that I knew like "susa" (difficult), "tarik" (pull), and "keluar" (exit), though she also threw in some English, like "plastic bag", "placenta", and "membrane." I was thoroughly enjoying myself, as well as the diagrams of the uterus, fetus, and cervix that she drew on the whiteboard, even though I didn't understand everything. For this session, it was just a Q&A discussion, so the nurse talked about a whole slough of things including what happens to the woman's body when the baby is ready to come out, what happens when a baby is pre-term, how to get your baby to breastfeed. And of course the women asked questions like, will my hips return to their original size after I give birth? (Nurse's answer: 60-70% of women don't return to their same shape.) Can I still drink Coca-Cola? (Nurse's answer: some people say no, but if the Coke makes you happy, then drink a bloody Coke.)

So, I sat during that discussion on my first day in this place, very pleased that this is my life. We have heard about how the women are traumatized and often want to sleep all day and can get very depressed. But during that session, they were full of questions, full of attention, and seemingly to me, full of hope for what is to come.

To know, to love.

Posted on the GSV blog this week! :)

Hair.

When I first heard Lady Gaga's "Born This Way" album, I immediately latched on to her song "Hair". Nowadays, I'd be quicker to say that "You and I" or "The Edge of Glory" are my favorites. But it's so funny to me that I instantly absolutely loved "Hair", without registering what the title of the song represents, much less the lyrics.

For those of you who don't know (tsk tsk), in this particular song, Lady Gaga belts, "I just wanna be free, I just wanna be me" along with "I am my hair, FREE AS MY HAIR".

So as soon as I had my duh moment, as in duh you just drastically cut your hair Lara, I knew I would write a blog entry dedicated to the spirit of "Hair". I didn't know it would take me almost 5 months to write it.

Let's start with the obvious connection: my hair and all its glories. When I was a little girl, my mother generally kept my hair short. I think my favorite was in fourth grade when I had a mom cut. You know, kind of poufy on top and short all around. For a time in high school, I straightened my hair everyday and kept it in choppy layers. My hair was the longest it's ever been during freshman year of college. I straightened it so much it became pretty dry and lifeless.

Sophomore year at LMU, the Paul Mitchell beauty school came to give $5 haircuts. I decided to go for it and chopped off pigtails long enough to donate. The resulting bob was chin length and probably one of the best cuts I've ever gotten - so flattering. I have to make a confession here, I had gotten into the habit of saying that I've donated my hair three times, but I think I've only donated twice. I say I think, because I had every intention of mailing those first pigtails in, but I think they sat in my desk drawer for the better part of the year and then I had to throw them out. Sometimes I remember mailing them, but I think that's a false memory my guilty conscience created.

I really did donate, however, in my senior year at LMU. My beloved Marians chopped off the pigtails and sent them in to Locks of Love. And then again from NYC this year, when I mailed my pigtails in to Pantene.

So we come to NY, for my amazing first GSV year. When I was in high school, I remember very clearly when my classmate and friend Jennifer chopped off her hair into a very short cut. I admired her a lot. It was something I would joke about and really envision when my thick hair got on my nerves - "I wish I could just chop it off! Or go bald!" But I never followed through.

Because living in NYC as a GSV completely turned my world upside down, because I became myself every day over and over, because I began (key word, began) to ask many questions about many different things, I was itching for a change in my physical appearance that would manifest the inner intangible.

I can say and see all that quite clearly now, but back in the beginning of this year when I first started to think about cutting my hair, I just thought, I'm in NYC, no one cares what I do, might as well keep the ball rolling, this is the perfect place to finally experiment with short hair. So I did.

After that first initial cut with my dear community member Madeline, I've had my hair cut maybe 4 or 5 times, including a stint involving my whole community (with Annie in spirit) and a pair of scissors on our balcony. I've loved this short hair. I've loved being called a little Asian boy by my roommates. I've loved gelling it into a faux-hawk. I've loved shampooing it for one second as opposed to the ten minutes a full head would entail.

When I decided to do the GSV Malaysia year, I decided not to get a pixie cut (or perhaps Malaysia was just an excuse) because I didn't want to be conspicuous. Well, that turned out to be a rather silly thought because there are women here who have short hair. Duh. But surprisingly to me, after moving here to Malaysia I am quite ready for long hair again.

Maybe because most of the teenage girls I live and work with right now have long and beautiful hair. And it makes me remember what my hair is like when long. Granted it is much more thick and wavy than any of theirs, but it reminds me of how much I really do love my long hair.

Nevertheless, I think much more than being surrounded by tons of beautiful Asian hair (and it's everywhere, in the showers, on the floor), the reason I want to let my hair grow out again is more to do with my spirit/spirituality/identity.

NYC was about asking all the right questions. I think Malaysia is already about becoming confident in those questions. The questions are still there. And may always remain. But I can still be sure of myself within that.

I also see it in terms of my GSV community members, with whom I continue to be obsessed. They taught me so much about themselves, about myself, about life, about love. This year, I have already so many times thought, what would MAJAKEL do? But then also, what would I myself do in the context of MAJAKEL? And that continually makes me a better me, more of me.

With Courtney (who also cut her hair around the same time as me because she was restless and needed a change - coincidence, I think not), this year is going to be one of becoming ourselves. Not because we have been lacking, or not ourselves, but because it's like hair. We grow. And then cut a little bit. And continue growing.

Cutting my hair short was a rebellion of sorts. It was me saying, I wanna be free, I wanna be me. And I now know, with short hair or with long hair, I am me. And it's all good.

On the daily.

I'm going to get right to it today - this post is all about what Courtney and my weekday schedule looks like. We usually work the 5am-2pm or 2pm-10pm shift. If she's on at 5am, I'm usually on at 2pm, and vice versa.

The girls go to school in two shifts because the school that the majority of them attend isn't big enough for all of them. So there is a morning session and afternoon session. The morning session leaves at about 6:15am and comes back around 1:30pm. The afternoon session leaves around 11:15am and comes back around 5:30pm.

5am: The girls wake up. Yes, it's still dark at that hour. Yes, I don't know how these teenagers do it. Those who are scheduled to make breakfast go to the kitchen and whip something up for everyone. I usually stumble out of bed at 4:30am (because I need to open the office by 5am), eyes glued shut, and find my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face with at least one or two other sleepy girls.

5:30am: Morning prayer. Usually a Bible reading and Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be.

5:50am: Breakfast. My favorite that the girls make is fried noodles. Yumm. Though I've lately been waking up craving oatmeal. The Sisters gave Courtney and I a huge pack. They call it Quaker Oat, but it sounds like "Co-ay-kaout." And even though I love good coffee, I have a fondness for the instant Nescafe we drink here.

6:15am: Morning session students leave. Afternoon session students hang out. Turn on the radio, read, play guitar.

7am: Afternoon girls do chores, which they call "charges." Each month they are all in charge of something. Washing the bathroom, cleaning the kitchen, sweeping and mopping, burning the rubbish pile. They compost what can be composted, recycle bottles and cans, and burn the rest.

8am: Study and homework time starts.

8:45am: Courtney and I do 45-min English lessons with the Form 2 (14-year-old) girls Tuesday through Thursday. They call it "tuition." These haven't been regular, however, because they are at the end of the school year which means lots of exams and irregular breaks. I'll have another post later talking about tuition because they've been a lot of fun.

9:30am: Girls in charge of making lunch go to the kitchen. Sometimes I supervise/help. But on the three days a week that Juriah, a part-time staff from the church community whom the girls call Aunty Juriah, is here, I am happy to not be in the kitchen. She's an awesome cook.

10:15am: Girls shower and get ready for school.

11am: Girls eat lunch.

11:15am: Girls leave for school. Peace and quiet for us staff, for an hour or so!! :) And lunch.

1:30pm: Morning session students start to trickle back from school, eat lunch, relax.

3pm: Study/homework time for morning session girls.

3:45pm: Courtney and I do tuition for the Form 5 (17-year-old seniors) girls.

4:30pm: Charges. The morning schoolgirls repeat what the afternoon schoolgirls did. It makes a huge difference! Girls who are scheduled to cook dinner head to the kitchen.

5:30pm: Afternoon girls start to trickle back and take showers, relax.

6:30pm: Evening prayer. Consists of an opening song, Gospel reading in both English and Malay, prayers, and a closing song. Of course I love the songs, which sometimes involve hand motions and dancing. Sometimes they sing in English, sometimes in Malay. After prayer are announcements.

7pm: Dinner. The girls gobble down their dinner and some of them are usually done before staff has even started. I suppose it makes sense though, with twenty girls. After dinner, they like to hang out, play guitar, sing, play board games.

8pm: Study/homework time for everyone. Courtney and I do English tuition with Form 1 (13-year-old freshmen) girls. I have to admit, this is my favorite group. They make me laugh, a lot. All such characters :)

8:45pm: Courtney and I do English tuition with the Form 3 and 4 girls. If we are not doing English tuition, Courtney and I help the girls with their homework if we can. The older students like to give us math problems from their exams, which are like the SATs. Then Courtney and I ask for their books and try to teach ourselves trigonometry or geometry or calculus. Fun stuff. Maybe half the time we are successful and jubilant. The other half, baffled and forced to say, "I don't know, ask your teacher."

10pm: Bed time! Girls go up to their rooms, we close the office, shut down the hostel.

It's a pretty structured day and I have had to get used to it. More than I like to admit to myself. At first I thought, okay I'm here for the girls, this is what my volunteer year is about. Most of the time, we (Courtney and I) take every meal with the girls. We both do every tuition session, even if we are not on duty. Our schedule is their schedule and we are both happy to make that our priority. But, I have had to be very self-aware. When I am not on duty, I try to do yoga in our room, read, take alone time. In the beginning, I wanted to hang out with them as much as possible. Even if I wasn't on duty. So I've learned to skip evening prayer if I have to. Stay in my room even if the sounds of the guitar are calling me from downstairs.

Of course though, every moment spent with the girls is life-giving. Even if I am feeling tired or overwhelmed or whatever emotion you can think of, hanging out with the girls, even if it's playing a board game or exchanging English for Malay words or watching the sunset, is always energizing and always so much fun. They often say that they miss home or their parents, but they have made this funny hostel my home.

Little house in the jungle.

I continue to feel like I live in the world of Little House on the Prairie: Malaysia. Everyday there are chores to be done, food to be cooked, sun to be enjoyed. Life is full of simple joys.

This is the hostel I live in! It's cute right? I didn't think so when Courtney and I first arrived, but I have really come to love it. If you look closely, you will see Shenny in the gazebo playing guitar. To me, this picture is the epitome of peace. That's saying a lot, since this hostel houses 20 teenage girls!

This is Courtney's and my little room. Her bed is on the left, mine on the right. Note the mosquito net over the window by my bed. We're missing a screen. I'm obsessed with the quilts we were given. I think they make our room really homey. We sleep, stretch, do yoga, everything in here. I know I'm going to miss our little room when we leave. But I will say, I've been having a really hard time sleeping. I think I'm still adjusting. More on that later, possibly along with the post dedicated to insects.

Last weekend, all the girls and staff went on a field trip to Beaufort, which is another part of Sabah. We went to a monkey conservatory!! Probiscus monkeys to be exact. Google them, they're pretty funny looking...Our journey consisted of a 45 minute drive to Kota Kinabalu (the capital city of Sabah), lunch break at the Sister's convent there, a 3 hour charter bus ride to Beaufort, and then a 10 minute boat ride to the welcome center of the conservatory. Courtney and I didn't know we had to take a boat, so when we got there by 5pm, I couldn't stop laughing! We had no idea why we were arriving so late or what was in store!

Life jackets! So here, we were finally on the tour in search of probiscus monkeys. It was literally like the real life version of the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland. Sounds, sights, smells, everything. Oh except that it was raining for much of it! But of course, none of the girls complained (or not that I knew of). We all had so much fun looking at the monkeys who came out after the rain stopped. After this leg of the tour, we went back to the welcome center for dinner. Another Disneyland comparison, the center was totally Pirates of the Caribbean. But it was all so much better obviously. I think I kept thinking about Disneyland because it was all rather surreal. The absolute best part of the trip though was on the boat ride back to our bus - we passed by thousands of fireflies in the mango trees. I wish I had a picture to show you (again, Pirates of the Caribbean). But it was pitch black by that time and the fireflies LIT UP those trees like they were Christmas lights. In some trees they blinked together. In other trees, they alternated and the guide said that none of it was coincidence. So so magical. Courtney and I were on a high after and we had to end the trip by stuffing ourselves with chocolate on the bus ride back.

Yesterday, Courtney, myself, and three of the girls walked with Bernadeth to her school. Since they are in final exam time right now, only she had to go to school yesterday. It took us 40 minutes (on a paved road, but pretty much through the rainforest) to get there. On the way back, we took another road past lots of rice paddies. That is Mount Kinabalu in the distance. It is the highest peak in Southeast Asia. Courtney and I plan to climb it, which you can do in two days. It's visible from the hostel, but yesterday was the first time I really noticed it. And I'm obsessed with it!

This weekend, Courtney, myself, and Pat (another staff here at the hostel, in the white polo shirt next to Courtney in the boat picture) are doing a visit at Jiana's home. Looking forward to it!

I'm grateful for this blog, because as I sit here rather sweaty, with skin itchy from mosquito bites and redness from not sleeping well, I am reminded that I am in a fantastically beautiful place with fantastically beautiful people.

Sending you all much love and peace and happiness!

The sun shine above all of us.

This past weekend I went home with one of the girls from the hostel. Twice a month, the girls are allowed to visit their homes in the kampungs, or villages. Courtney went with Bernadeth and I went with Shieldry (pronounced Shel-dree). Leaving Courtney for an extended amount of time for the first time since becoming partners-in-crime, I felt like a kid separating from its parents to go to school for the first time! But it was an amazing weekend, for both of us.

Shieldry is an only child which is unusual, since most of the girls have at least two siblings, if not six. Shieldry is also unusual because her mom is the only parent at the hostel who has a university degree (for teaching). Upon meeting her parents, Shieldry's dad told me that he also is in college right now studying education. For an hour on Saturday night, I helped him with an English class project, which included writing sentences using adjectives. Fun stuff! Anyway, Shieldry lives fairly close by, only about thirty minutes away. She technically does not need to stay at the hostel, given her socioeconomic background, but the hostel took her in to help her learn independent living skills and to give her a supportive sisterhood.

I thought it would be fun to give you a glimpse of my weekend through pictures. Here goes!


On Saturday, Shieldry, her mom and I went to her mom's family's kampung, called Kampung Bantayan. Shieldry's grandmother, uncle, uncle's wife, two cousins, and aunt live there. They have a big country house with lots of scruffy dogs and puppies, chickens, pigs, and fruit trees. We went up to the rubber tap trees to collect the rubber. Shieldry's uncle and wife manage the trees. Our girls at the hostels always talk about going home to help their families "rubber tap" so it was really awesome to see it up close and personal. Liquid rubber, which is white in color and looks like glue, literally runs out of the tree into little black pots that are hung on the side of the trees. After collecting the rubber, Shieldry's uncle sells it to a rubber factory. It pays well. In this picture, that's me wearing a borrowed hat from Shieldry's mom, Shieldry's adorable two-year-old cousin Alvin who fell partly down a hill on my watch (oops- but no worries, in no time, he was up and running around the hillside again and playing with a sparrow his dad had shot with an air rifle), Shieldry holding a bucket full of rubber, and Shieldry's five-year-old cousin Melvin who was shy at first but later felt comfortable making faces at me.

This is part of Shieldry's family's rice paddy. Isn't it beautiful? Her grandmother, who is probably in her late fifties or early sixties, goes out every day to work the fields. She's quite a rockstar. Shieldry's aunt took me to four different places in the paddy to find me a leech. They were being shy, so she kept telling me to just stick my leg in. She finally found a baby one.

I like this picture of Shieldry and the kelapa, or coconut, tree (funny because "head" in Malay is "kepala"). We picked a bunch of coconuts and her uncle chopped the tops off as soon as we got back to the house and we had fresh coconut juice!

Hot and sweaty Lara and Melvin enjoying our fresh drinks. Shieldry and her uncle in the background with more coconuts. After finishing the juice, Shieldry's uncle chopped them open again to see if there was any coconut meat. I also had two other vegetables from their farm. One was called tarap and was delicious in a soup - kind of reminded me of mushrooms. The other was a bitter root that they like to chew and wasn't quite my cup of tea - don't remember what it was called.

Every Sunday, Shieldry's mom's family gets together for family prayer and dinner. Lovely. In the back row: Shieldry's uncle Augustine, dad Yalim, uncle Richard (covered by camera loving Alvin), aunt Sabrina, Shieldry, mom Susannah. In the front row: Shieldry's uncle Didie (who is twenty four years old and took us to a crocodile farm!) cousin Melvin, uncle's wife Meg, cousin Alvin, grandma Lina, uncle Lawrence, me, uncle Lawrence's wife with seven-month-old Grace.

They did their prayer in Malay, so I didn't understand much else besides "Yesus". But what I did understand was the love in that family. I had met everyone by that time Sunday night (yesterday night!), but it was only in seeing them all together in Shieldry's house that I started to think about my own family. Shieldry's mom's family now consists of her grandmother the matriarch (grandpa passed away about five years ago), four brothers, and two sisters - and their extended family. Being invited into their family and feeling that family love, I began to miss my dad's family, which consists of the same grandmother matriarch, four brothers, two sisters, and all the husbands and wives and cousins.

"Family" means a lot of different things. But realizing the similarities between my own and Shieldry's made me so grateful for family and everything that it means. I was so overwhelmed with love, with homesickness, with joy, with gratitude, that I started crying. I felt very much at home with Shieldry's family and I am so honored to have gotten to know them. I hope very much that I get to stay with them again!

On the first night of my stay, Shieldry's mom was showing me family photo albums and came across one with breathtaking photos from Mount Kinabalu that Shieldry's uncle Didie had taken. The most amazing thing, however, was that Shieldry's ten-year-old self had decided on her own to write little blurbs on the backs of the photos. Of course, I was obsessed with them. Among my favorites: "Natural things help us relax and teach us to calm down with all what happen whenever it bad or good" and "The wild is my way to heaven." She also wrote, "The sun shine above all of us. Greet him nicely." Some months ago, my dad told me that sometimes he looks at the moon and thinks, Andrew is looking at the same moon. Shieldry's ten-year-old self was/is so wise. The sun does indeed, shine on all of us. What more could we ask for?

Just wanna make the world dance..

Courtney and I have finally arrived at Tenghilan, the village where we are staying for two months! We have been here about a week. We live and work in a place called Asrama Gereja St. James Tenghilan. Asrama means hostel and gereja means church. Our little hostel home is behind a church. Girls ages thirteen to seventeen come here to live so they can go to the schools here in Tenghilan. Most of their families are farmers and live in villages without schools thirty, forty, fifty minutes away.

I'd like to introduce the girls. I was so excited about this, because at other placements, including last year, I didn't feel like I could share the residents' names or stories as freely. But this placement isn't secret. The community very much knows they live here and there are other hostels for students in Tenghilan.

Anyway, I've already fallen in love with the girls and am so excited to tell you about them. Courtney and I have been/will be spending so much time with them, which makes me feel less sad that we only have two months here. We all have our rooms on the second floor of the hostel and even share the bathroom with them, dorm style. But I'll get into the fun details of life in a village hostel later. For now, it's all about the girls:

Emilianie: Goes by Nani. She is one of the younger girls and can be a little sly I think. But I think she is also a really good listener and friend to the other girls. Courtney, me, and our director are going to do a home visit to her family's village this weekend.

Shantey: I love her very upright posture and serious demeanor. When she talks to me, she is so sweet, which always takes me by surprise because sometimes I think she's judging me :)

Clara: Was excited my name is so similar to hers. Wears glasses. Has a really sweet smile. The girls often refer to her because her English is good. Not afraid to speak in front of a big group.

Loka: Seems like one of the cool girls (not in a mean girl kind of way, but in a leader of the group kind of way). Same birthday as my sister, September 16. Went home to her family this weekend.

Arzyella: Goes by Lala. The glamorous one of the group. Tall and skinny.

Bernadeth: One of the oldest girls. Loves talking to Courtney and I and asking questions. Courtney has done a great job already tutoring her in math. She had a boyfriend but broke up with him to concentrate more on her exams! Good cook.

Jiana: Pronounced Janna. Also one of the older girls. She loves to dance.

Martina: Little rebel of the group. She's one of the older girls. She's amazing with the guitar. Also singing and dancing. She has this punky short hair do and likes to wear black clothes and lots of eyeliner! Underneath the cool girl is a really sweet girl.

Sylviana: Goes by Emel (pronounced EEmel). So little and so sweet. I love how she always says, "Good night! Larrr-a!" or "Good morning! Larrr-a!" Gave me some Malay lessons the other day.

Sabrina: One of the older girls. Very mature and very responsible. Also always sharing her snacks!

Denisteca: Goes by Denis. One of the younger girls. She is the most zealous about learning English and is not shy at all about practicing with Court and I. She is very playful. And I love her laugh! It's kind of rumbly.

Agatha: One of the younger girls. She likes to keep to herself, a lot. But whenever I smile at her, she smiles back. And the other day, I was playing a game with her and some other girls and her mischievous, sarcastic side came out a little!

Eva: One of the youngest girls but I thought she was one of the older girls! Played badminton with me over the weekend. Has a boyfriend who calls her Yoyong for no apparent reason.

Sheldry: Always on her laptop during study time (apparently the government here gave underprivileged students a laptop - one of the staff was telling me it was interesting because it seemed like a cover up for other issues not addressed). Her English is better than she lets on, I think. I like how she walks, kind of duck footed.

Shenny: Shantey's younger sister. I love her chic haircut. She plays the guitar and sings and dances really well.

Michelle: Also went home this weekend to see her family. Told me she helped her parents "rubber tap". A lot of people here in the villages do that for income.

Clay: One of the younger girls, but also one of the leaders of the group. Everyone seems to like her. She is super small but is SUCH a character. She has an amazing voice and is awesome with the guitar. She is a runner at school (as in track and field).

Elah: Shantey and Shenny's aunt, but is in the same class as Shenny. Very mischievous, which I love. In a game where they had to write names of people or characters, she made one up called Walen Turia Fone, because I told them it was better if they were obscure figures.

Evyliana: Goes by Coro, which means small in Malay. Has her tongue pierced. When she is around the other girls, she is one of the cool girls. But when she is talking to us staff, I can tell she is very curious and eager to help. She wants to leave here when she is done with school to maybe work as a graphic designer in Kota Kinabalu or Singapore or New York City!

So those are the nineteen girls here, in very small nutshells (I've quickly learned the word for nut, which is kacang pronounced ka-chang). I feel very lucky to be able to spend time with them. They love to talk and sing and dance. Courtney and I always hear them singing in the kitchen while they cook meals or in the bathroom while they shower. Someone is always playing the guitar. Over the weekend, I hung out with some of them in the grassy area in front of the hostel, playing guitar (well listening for me), singing, playing badminton, just talking. I told Courtney the other day that it kind of reminds me of Little House on the Prairie, except in the tropics.

Because of their culture and where they have grown up, they are more connected to the environment around them. And I have so much to learn from them and their way of being! Like one of their favorite songs to sing and play on the guitar goes, "Why is everybody so obsessed/ money can't buy us happiness/ can we all slow down and enjoy right now/ guarantee we'll be feelin alriiiight."

You'll fit right in!

As usual, my inner dialogue on race, racism, and being Asian American has been steadily flowing since arriving here in Malaysia.

On more than several occasions, people here have spoken to me in Malay or Chinese, mostly when I have tried to order food. All of the Good Shepherd staff people I have met so far have commented that I will fit right in. Most of them have said that I look Chinese.

It's interesting. Several of them have asked me, "You look like you have an Asian background. Are you..?" Each time, I want to shout (not angrily, more in an amused/befuddled way), "Of course I am!! Believe what you see!"

That question has perplexed me the last week. But today I realized why so many people are perplexed by my Asian-ness. I met some staff for the first time today at a youth center here in Kota Kinabalu. One of the staff immediately commented that I "will fit right in." They then asked me what I am (I've gotten that question a lot too and I do happen to like answering that one - people are intrigued by the Japanese and Filipino mix). But then the revelatory comment came from a Sister on staff: "But you are from the US?"

I think when all these staff people heard that two American volunteers were coming, they expected us both to look like Courtney, who is a blue eyed redhead. And indeed, Magda, the Good Shepherd Volunteer here in Malaysia last year, is also white. I think on some level it surprises the PKGS staff here in Malaysia to see that an American can look so much like them.

Last night, the PKGS director of the Sabah programs took me to Mass (Courtney wasn't feeling well, so she went back across the street to rest at the convent where we are currently staying for two nights). Looking around at all the other churchgoers, I realized that I really do blend in. Like a strawberry blends right into a banana smoothie. Unless I open my mouth, there is almost no way for people to mark me as American. There was a local hapa family sitting in front of us and I realized that they stood out in that crowd much more than I did. What a weird feeling.

Whenever Courtney and I have gone out in public here, people inevitably stare at Courtney. It hasn't affected her so much - I think after going abroad on other trips to Ghana, Ethiopia, and Ecuador, she has become more accustomed to it. Funnily enough, it is me, the one who "fits in" who has gone into this tailspin of identity questioning and thoughts.

Before leaving the country, during the Hurricane Irene weekend in NYC, I went to the grocery store to pick up some victuals. As I stood contemplating whether to buy light vanilla soy milk or regular soy milk, an African American guy came up to me and asked if I spoke Chinese. I was taken aback and said, rather confusedly, no. He persisted and I asked if I spoke a couple other Asian languages. Over the seconds that it took him to ask, I became annoyed and said more forcefully "no" each time. He then took out a business card and said, "Oh I'm sorry I wanted to give you this." The card was emblazoned with "Learn English" and was for ESL classes. I said to him, "No I very much speak English, thank you" and walked away. Frankly, I was infuriated. I'm getting angry typing this.

I'm more American than I am Asian. Coming to Asia reminds me of that. But then again, I'm Asian American. I'm fully American. Fully Asian American. But somehow, in my own country, I am still treated as a second class American. Saying that makes me feel a little melodramatic, especially knowing the brutality and injustice that other Asian Americans experience, but when I am made to question and defend my identity as an American, in whatever small way, I do feel that I have the right to make that emotional claim.

Before leaving for Malaysia, I was so sure that people would know right away that I am American, because of the way I dress, walk, look, speak. I have been so surprised to see that that hasn't been true. I know we have been in cities, so it might be different when we go to more rural areas. But I also know that my expectations came from visiting the Philippines and Japan, the countries of my ancestors, where I don't quite fit in because I don't look fully Filipino and I don't look fully Japanese.

That was not the first time someone in the US has assumed I'm from elsewhere. And I'm sure it's not the last time. In Malaysia, however, people assume I'm from here! The irony of that fascinates me. Courtney and I had a good talk about race and racism and everything in between last night, so I'm really happy she is open to those kinds of conversations. I'm sure it won't be the last time.

Selamat detang ke Malaysia!

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

I'm sitting in the little conference room here at the Good Shepherd KL center. The Good Shepherd Sisters have a convent here, as well as a group home for teenage girls and an emergency shelter for women in crisis. Courtney and I have been here since arriving in Malaysia on Saturday. On Wednesday, we are going to take a train to Ipoh where there is another shelter for women. We will stay there for three days and then come back to KL for one night. Then we will fly to Sabah, where we will probably remain for the rest of our stay in Malaysia.

After leaving NYC last Thursday, so much has happened and I don't think I can make this entry a narrative - it would be a novel! Instead, I'm just going to describe some of my favorite tidbits and happenings. Here goes...

1. The Good Shepherd agency here in Malaysia is called "Pusat Kebajikan Good Shepherd." Pusat means center. Kebajikan means welfare. They call it PKGS for short.

2. The little conference room that I am sitting in, as well as the staff's adjacent offices, looks like it was furnished by Ikea. Beautiful wall board, table, and swivel chairs. When Courtney and I were given a tour yesterday, we were impressed with how modern looking the office space is. Then earlier today, we were sitting with some of the women and one of them pulled out the most current Ikea catalogue to practice saying the prices in English! Made me laugh.

3. There are nine "ladies" from Cambodia and one from Eritrea here at the shelter right now. They all came to Malaysia to be domestic workers, but then ran away from their employers because they were abused. We have been hanging out with them. Most of them have very little English, which makes communication difficult, but two of them have conversational English. The woman from Eritrea told Courtney that she didn't even know she was coming to Malaysia after leaving her country. When she got to Malaysia, her "employer" just locked her up in a room. She couldn't do anything. Then one night her employer got drunk and left the keys and some money on a table. So she stole the keys and money and ran and ran. She ran until she found some other African people who took her in for a little but. While there, she created a Facebook account and, through some of her friends from home, found out that her family had moved to Australia. And she was able to make contact with her family (Facebook comes to the rescue!)! The African family she was staying with helped her go to the embassy and she was then placed here with PKGS. She is waiting for her papers to go through so that she can reunite with her family in Australia. She hasn't seen them in six years.

4. We are on a hilltop overlooking KL and it is jaw-droppingly beautiful. To Courtney's and my American sensibilities, we are in the middle of the rainforest. But apparently Sabah is even greener! We have yet to see the monkeys that steal all the fruit from the trees surrounding these grounds, but hopefully tonight is the night. Also, a couple nights ago, we heard the Sister's dogs violently barking at someone/thing. The next morning we found out they were trying to keep a wild boar away. I guess monkeys and boars are their pigeons and squirrels.

5. Being here reminds me a lot of being in the Philippines. We went to Mass at a local parish with some of the Sisters and staff on our first night and as soon as we walked in, the sounds, smells, heat, sights reminded me of the Philippines. So that bit of familiarity has helped a little. But at that Mass, because I was so exhausted from traveling, so sweaty from the humidity, and so overwhelmed with my decision to do this year (I kept thinking, I can't do this for a year!!), I had to spend the majority of the service deescalating myself. I was starting to panic. But I was able to calm myself down, using some handy breathing techniques from orientation (thanks Julie!). And then after church, we went to a Chinese hawkers market where all these vendors were selling food outdoors. As always, sharing a hot meal (claypot chicken rice) with good people made me really happy. Some things don't change, even halfway around the world.

6. I just heard the Muslim call to prayer coming from KL for the second time since being here. So haunting and beautiful.

7. Food so far has consisted of a lot of rice, chicken, and vegetables. And it's all been delicious. So I'm a happy camper.

8. Malaysia is super diverse in terms of demographic. There are several big ethnic groups - Malay, Chinese, and Indian (as in from India, the first time I heard Indian I thought it referred to indigenous). When we went to Mass, I was completely blown away by all the different faces and colors. I totally was not expecting that! Then there are also tons of migrants - Burmese, Cambodians, Filipinos, etc. etc.

8. We are pretty comfortable right now. Yesterday, the director of PKGS, Theresa, took us to the Kuala Lumpur City Center where the famous Twin Towers are. We went to this upscale shopping center to walk around and have some dessert. We had our shaved ices, similar to the Filipino halo-halo, amidst the Prada, Chanel, and Tiffany's stores. Then she took us to a market so that I could buy a cheap watch. I got a pretty snazzy one for ten ringgit, which is about three US dollars!

9. Our first foray into international simple living was yesterday when the water pump was turned off. Courtney and I were getting ready to go to breakfast when we realized that the shower, sink, and toilet weren't working. But that wasn't supposed to happen and the Sisters turned it back on. The Eritrean woman here at the shelter showed us how to wash our clothes by hand today. Both Courtney and I pretty much know how to do that, but we wanted to see how they do it here. That's somehting we will have to get used to doing all the time. No more washing machines!

10. After being here for two and a half days, I feel like I have come across a lifetime of lessons. Language, time, consumerism, food, weather, solidarity, stress, travel, loneliness, love. I can only imagine how the rest of this year will pan out.

That's all for now. Much peace and love to you all!!

A whale of a time..

I leave at midnight tonight for NYC. Orientation on Staten Island for 10 days and then I fly to Malaysia on September 1. What is life?

Surreal, for sure.

I have a family brunch this morning and more packing to do before I leave. And I'd like to take a nap since I'm flying red eye and me sleeping on planes doesn't always work out.

Here are some weird things that I have had to do to get ready for this new adventure..

- Cancel my Chase debit account. I opened this account just for NYC and since I have a B of A debit account, it doesn't make sense to have two.

- Call Bank of America and tell them I'm going to Malaysia so they don't put my account on hold.

- Pack clothes that do NOT include sweatshirts or sweatpants. These (American) comfort clothes are not necessary and even uncomfortable in a tropical place like Malaysia.

- Say goodbye to my brother through an email.

- Buy one of those clip-on insect repellant fans. I've never used one and I'm not really looking forward to walking around buzzing (audibly), but I suppose if it keeps me from contracting malaria..

- Buy little bags of Snickers and Reese's. My mom said people I'll be working with in Malaysia will appreciate American chocolate. I'll take her word for it.

- Look up the Malaysian form of government and currency. They have a prime minister and queen and king. And the currency is called ringgit.

Whereas last year moving to New York very much felt that I was moving my life, this move to Malaysia feels more like an aberration. Like a break from my real life. Maybe because I'm leaving with one suitcase and one carry-on bag (I'm excited to see how the GSV tenets of social justice, community, spirituality, and especially simplicity pan out). But this IS real life. Although I am not taking many of my clothes, books, shoes, trinkets and things, I am not leaving anything behind. Where my heart goes is home. I am departing from my family and friends for a little while, but I am not leaving behind a life. I am moving forward with life.

Anyway, the other day I was watching 20/20 with my Grandma and there was a spot on a group of boaters who came across a humpback whale (they obviously weren't on the local lake) entangled, fully straightjacketed by fishing net. The whale was pretty much being strangled to death. At risk to their own lives, the boaters spent more than an hour cutting the net to free the whale. When they finally set the whale free, the whale swam away and after a couple yards majestically jumped out of the water and into the air. It was saying thank you. I've been such an emotional wreck the last couple weeks, so I almost cried watching this whale on TV (yes really), but it was also a really beautiful image. I'm obviously not a whale (insert appropriate joke here), but I like the idea of me swimming away and jumping into the air showing my gratitude for everyone who sends me off on this journey with support and love.

Surprise.

I will not hide my tastes or aversions. I will so trust that what is deep is holy, if we follow the truth, it will bring us out safe at last. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Think of a time when you didn't think you were capable of doing something, but then surprised yourself. How will you surprise yourself this week? - Ashley Ambirge

This is another prompt from the Self-Reliance 30-day online writing challenge. I really love this quote from Emerson. Trust, holy, truth - all such key words for me this past year.

I've now been in LA for a little over a week. Before coming back, I was anxious about how I was going to spend time. Meaning, I knew time would slip through my hands. I was also worried about money for these 3 weeks, but turns out time is what I need more of.

Somewhere around the middle of last week, however, I realized that it is what it is. I have a short amount of time with my family and friends before leaving for a year. Yes, I had hoped for more sleep. Yes, I had hoped for more time to go to the gym, do yoga, and meditate. Yes, I had planned to more diligently study Malay. Yes, none of those things have really happened.

But at the same time, yes. My time here so far has consisted of driving around sprawling LA to meet up with friends. Hanging out with my parents, sister, and grandma. Running endless errands for myself and for my family. Getting ready for my Malaysia fundraiser. My time here so far has consisted of scheduling my time here. It has taken a lot of juggling.

So, I say yes. I don't like feeling like I have no time. But I do love my people. The map of my network here - Santa Monica, Culver City, Ventura, Downtown LA, the South Bay, Bolsa Chica, Arcadia - is dotted with lovely people. Everytime I have a conversation with someone about my year and about their year, I process a little more what this past year meant for me. I am able to show a little more joy and gratitude for my time in NY.

And without closing that door, because I don't know that closure is the fitting label for this experience, I get more comfortable and more ready for the next phase of my life. You know, the one where I leave my part of the world and my people for a new life-giving adventure. It's weird to feel like I'm just catching up with my friends, instead of just spending time with them. It's weird to not spend as much time as possible with my best friends. As Ana said, "We're always saying goodbye!"

I have to say, this past week, I have found myself inwardly lamenting my lack of sleep or lack of quiet time. Then I find myself having an awesome life-giving time with people. This time I have in LA is holy. It is crazy, hectic, fun-filled, beautiful. I have realized that I just need to trust that I am spending my time in the best way possible. No need to stress out. I will see who I have to see. I will do what I have to do. It will all happen. I have had to let go of my expectations and just go with the flow. When I get on that plane for NY again in 11 days, I will be safer and saner because I am reenergized, not necessarily by rest and relaxation, but by my amazing, surprising, hilarious, and dynamic support system of family and friends.

MAJAKEL.

I can't believe I'm back in Gardena, CA in my parent's house in the little bedroom I share with my sister.

I can't believe the phase in my life where I lived with 6 MAJAKEL women in a high school home in Astoria, NY is over.

I wanted to do a shout out to my beautiful roommates Madeline, Alaina, Jess, Annie, Krystina and Liz but somehow I'm at a loss for words. I had thoughts of sharing some of the wacky and inspiring, ridiculous and emotional stories we shared this past year, but I'm not feeling that right now.

But Alaina's blog dedicated to our Astoria community is perfect. So I'm just going to link to her blog. She has always had a knack for articulating so eloquently what I feel so deeply.

Before that though, I will say briefly (what I said at Re-Orientation last weekend, our end-of-year retreat), when I think of our community, I think of HEART. Individually and together, our hearts are so special. Whenever I am in a room with MAJAKEL, I can feel their presence. I am so aware of their energies. Their hearts speak to mine. I have seen them. They have seen me.

Now that we are scattered, I still feel their energy. Our lives became so intertwined this past year and from now on, these women will always be a piece of home for me.

One of the questions on our end-of-year GSV evaluation asked what was the most memorable or most fulfilling experience living in community. I said that I couldn't pinpoint one specific experience, but that if loving people is an experience, then it is that. I have loved them and they have loved me. And that has been the most memorable and most fulfilling.

With that, here is Alaina's tribute to MAJAKEL. Love!

21.

Today is my brother's 21st birthday. This picture was taken almost a year ago - we were picking up my friend Catherine in Andrew's new Scion and going to Abbot Kinney's First Friday. Andrew's playing with my Ipod Nano, Umi, which he had just given to me for my birthday, which is 6 days after his birthday. That Ipod has been an anchor for me this year, grounding me when I've felt overwhelmed by life. Who would have thought?

Wherever he is, I love and miss him very much. Happy birthday to my not-so-little brother. I hope it's his best one ever.

Witness.

This is now my last full week of work at the Foyer. Next Wednesday is my last day. It's going to be a bittersweet goodbye. I'm going to really miss the staff and the residents there. I really have loved my work this year.

I've formed such unique relationships with the residents at the Foyer. One resident I see regularly at my workshops and she always provides wise-beyond-her-years insight. With a Maya Angelou-esque voice and gravity. Another resident and I are always talking about working out and making good social decisions. He has been trying to get me to go for a run with him during the fitness workshop, so that might finally happen for the first and last time this Wednesday, if he is able to attend. Another resident and I attended a youth rally planning meeting to protest Mayor Bloomberg's budget cuts toward city youth funding. We planned and then we attended the rally/protest together.

I honestly love each and every one of the residents here because they are so full of character. I definitely have stronger bonds with some, but in being at the Foyer 40 hours a week, I have gotten to see everyone's individual personalities.

For this entry, I wanted to include the "placement story" that I had to write up for GSV's end of year paperwork. The instructions were to write a short story about a relationship that we built with a client, coworker, or community member. We were told to make it personal and discuss something that we learned, how the other person learned or grew, or what we discovered together. I chose to write about one of the residents on my caseload, Alex (name changed for privacy purposes). Here's the story, which provides a little glimpse into my relationships with the Foyer residents.

When I first met Alex, the second resident assigned to my caseload, I felt positive that together we would find a job for him and he would start quickly adding to his savings account. His polite manner and articulate way of speaking seemed to indicate his ambitious, self-starting skills. Despite his intelligent conversation, however, I discovered that Alex struggled with motivational issues and anxiety, tied into his ADHD and bipolar disorder. And because he was not treating the disorders, Alex really struggled with the independent living environment at the Foyer. He regularly blazed through his SSI check and food stamps at the beginning of the month of junk food and online games. He rarely got himself out the door to look for jobs because he had a fear of traveling alone. He regularly lied about his budget and job searches.

After several months of being at the Foyer, Alex still hadn't found a job and still hadn't stabilized his budget. And I had to learn that even though I established a good relationship with Alex, I couldn't make him do anything, nor was I responsible for what he didn't do. All I could do was continue to motivate him and listen to him and be a resource for him.

I discovered that Alex liked to write. One day, a creative writing workshop I helped facilitate led Alex to show me some of his old notebooks. I encouraged him to start writing again to express his feelings, his hopes, his frustrations. He seemed thoughful about the idea but said "maybe" and put the notebooks away.

A couple months later, now about 8 months since Alex had arrived at the Foyer and was placed on my caseload, Alex and I got into a conversation about his anxiety. I asked him about his family history and his life experiences and he opened up to me. He told me he had been physically abused by his mother and had gone through boarding and group homes for most of his life. At the end of the conversation, Alex said, almost childishly, "We just bonded!"

A couple weeks later I received an email from Alex with a short piece of writing he had done, which indirectly reflected his hunger for acceptance and love. He told me that he had remembered my advice and took it.

At the end of my volunteer year at the Foyer, after working with Alex for 11 months, he still does not have a job. But he has grown. He budgets his money better. He goes out into the neighborhood to job search and has even traveled into other boroughs.

As for me, my working relationship with Alex illustrates my biggest role as a volunteer Independent Living Counselor at the Foyer this year: I am a support for my residents, in ways I cannot predict or control. And I am grateful to be a witness to their lives.

Intensity.

Reckoning: I cannot make myself less or worse. I am this intense. I am this alive. I am this powerful. - from Insecure At Last: A Political Memoir by Eve Ensler

I am intense. It's taken me a long time to admit this. By intense, I don't mean manic or neurotic or aggressive. I like to think that even after a year of living in NYC, I've held onto my easygoing West Coast vibes. By intense, I mean that I am a deep thinker, feeler, communicator. It's taken me 22 years to realize that I think a lot, feel a lot, and communicate a lot because I am intense.

My dad wrote me a letter a couple weeks ago mentioning that he knows I "try very hard" and that I may be "a little OCD!" I immediately felt defensive about this. Then I tried to process why it was I felt defensive. (See the intensity?) And I realized that it was because I knew he was right. For example, when I talk to people, I am constantly subconsciously thinking about how my words are coming out and how they are being perceived. I am constantly subconsciouly thinking about why people say or do things the way they do. I have a radar perpetually alert to read the undercurrents and emotions of people around me.

Then my dad wrote, in regards to the OCD, that "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree" (referring to himself in this case, not my mom). And as soon as I read that line, I thought, we (my family) are all so intense. My dad. My brother. Me. My dad is a triathlete and probably works out 40 hours a week (this might be an exaggeration but could also be close to the truth). Intense. My brother left home and cut ties with everyone he knew. Intense. I moved to NYC, came out, and decided to move to Malaysia next year. Intense.

So as intensity dictates, I proceeded to respond to my dad's letter item for item. I often send emails like this, just another indicator of intensity I think. If I send pictures to my family to share my weekend, I have to send little blurbs describing the photos. If I am on a coffee date with my best friends, I always surprise myself by sharing more than I thought I was capable of.

It's surprising to me because for so long I have defined myself as a reserved shy girl. And perhaps at some point I was in my childhood. But I think it's now safe to say that I am no longer that girl. As is so true to my personality, I've repressed a lot over the years.

So today, in the footsteps of Eve Ensler, I declare myself an intense, emotional creature.

And with that declaration comes the admittance that I am not always such a calm, peaceful, quiet person. Sometimes I like to dance like I'm possessed by a crazy bird spirit. Sometimes I have to sob myself to sleep. Sometimes I have to rant about people's insensitive and ignorant comments. Before this declaration, I liked to say that I am a reserved person. And that it takes a lot to shake me. Well, screw that. If I'm a reserved person now, it's only because I have great reserves of feelings and thoughts within. Yes, I am still contemplative and peaceful and quiet, but there is great intensity in my silence.

I must be myself. I cannot break myself any longer for you, or you. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

I wanted to include a brief snapshot in this entry, of the day that the gay marriage bill was passed here in NY state. That evening was intense. My grandma has told me that she remembers watching historic events on TV like the first man on the moon or JFK's assassination. I couldn't help but think that I will never forget how I felt when the marriage bill was passed. I will store that memory and it will remain fresh for a very long time, right alongside the night that Obama became president.

That Friday when the bill was passed, I worked til 10pm. It was the start of Pride weekend though and I knew I just wanted to be out and about. I had no idea the announcement was going to be made on the Senate's decision, but I wanted to start off Pride weekend surrounded by other revelers. Anyway, what seemed like 100 texts later, I convinced 2 friends to go out with me (my usual partners-in-crime, my roommates, were too tired after a long work week).

Jenny met me at work and we got onto the subway towards Christopher Street in Greenwich Village. I wanted to go to Stonewall, the gay bar/club. I hadn't seen Jenny in a while, so our subway ride was spent catching up. Then we arrived at the Christopher Street stop. My phone vibrated in my pocket as soon as we exited the train and it picked up on the signal lost underground. As Jenny and I walked up the subway station staircase, I opened a text from Jess that simply said, "It passed."

It was funny though. I read the text, turned to Jenny, and read it to her - but something wasn't clicking. I think I was a little bit in shock. I don't think I believed it right away. It wasn't until the second that we had fully emerged from the subway station onto street level, stood at the light on the corner across from Stonewall, saw masses of people in the street, and HEARD the collective roar of ecstatic excitement and joy that erupted like a gushing geyser - it wasn't until that moment that it clicked.

And I had the most PEACEFUL sense of rightness within me in that moment. Even as I was jumping up and down, hugging Jenny, tearing up. I felt that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. A California native, who had found a home in New York. Standing on that street corner, waiting to walk, well really run, across to join the celebration, I felt shook up. I felt so proud and honored to share that moment with New York.

Needless to say, the energy that night was unforgettable. My roommates couldn't stay away and left our house to meet us there. While Jenny, Valerie, and I waited for them, we just stood in the street and soaked in everyone's happiness and love. And then we all finally got into Stonewall and danced, through a power outage no less. I will forever think of that night when I hear Lady Gaga's "The Edge of Glory."

Intense.

Spark.

Last week, I submitted a personal essay to Asian American Justice Center, which was asking for submissions about what sparked young Asian Americans' passion for justice. I saw a call for entries on AngryAsianMan.com.

I waited til the wee hours of the morning the night of the deadline to write something up. I had a lot of fun working on it. And lo and behold, it was put up online!

I really do love what I wrote, but I have to mention two mistakes I made. At the end of my essay, I say that some of my uncles had a falling out with my aunt. That is not true and I feel terrible that I misunderstood and misrepresented a story my mom told me a couple years ago. I also say in the essay that only my mom supports my cousin Joanne, but in fact, one of my uncles does as well.

If I hadn't written the essay the night of the deadline, I could have checked my facts with my mom before submitting. But I didn't. And now I can't change what was put up. But that is definitely a lesson learned. In writing, especially in writing about personal matters, I have to check my facts.

Aside from those two mistakes, I am proud of the essay and hope you enjoy it!

"The Spark of Love Within"

Dare to be bold.

"Our arts, our occupations, our marriages, our religion, we have not chosen, but society has chosen for us. We are parlour soldiers. We shun the rugged battle of fate, where strength is born." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Next to Resistance, rational thought is the artist or entrepreneur's worst enemy. Bad things happen when we employ rational thought, because rational thought comes from the ego. Instead, we want to work from the Self, that is, from instinct and intuition, from the unconscious. A child has no trouble believing the unbelievable, nor does the genius or the madman. It's only you and I, with our big brains and our tiny hearts, who doubt and overthink and hesitate." - Steven Pressfield, Do the Work

The idea of "being realistic" holds all of us back. From starting a business or quitting a job to dating someone who may not be our type or moving to a new place - getting "real" often means putting your dreams on hold. Today, let's take a step away from rational thought and dare to be bold. What's one thing you've always wanted to accomplish but have been afraid to pursue? - Matt Cheuvront

This writing prompt comes from a 30-day online challenge called "Self-Reliance" based on the work of Ralph Waldo Emerson. I've been receiving daily emails. The idea is to do a prompt a day, but I've just been saving the ones I like.

This particular prompt, created by Matt Cheuvront, speaks to me a lot. I've realized that I value ADVENTURE. The voice within me that is always questioning, always looking for more, always wanting to BE more - that is the voice of adventure. Adventure is why I studied abroad and travelled so much when I was there. Adventure is why I moved to New York City. Adventure is why I'm going to Malaysia next year.

Adventure is also why I try not to map out my life anymore. Through college, I liked to think of my life in terms of years. As in: I'll gradate from LMU, work a couple years, go to grad school for my master's, get my doctorate by the time I'm 30, start a family in my early 30s. Looking at that tidy little train of a life, I can't help but think - what kind of life is that? How could I possibly limit myself to that? (Also, please note that I am fully aware that I write this from a privileged point of view. I am blessed with amazing parents who have my back personally and financially. This is, nonetheless, my own truth.)

I don't mean to say that that kind of life isn't desirable. It is. I would love to go to grad school and have a family some day. But how could I have thought that those things could be planned 10-15 years into the future? Life is so much bigger than degrees and societal milestones.

Something that amazes me almost everyday here in NYC is how much this year has opened me up to my real true Self. My NYC year has changed how I move through the world. Questioning my sexuality and coming out has changed the way I relate to people. My brother disappearing has changed my family. Being a GSV has changed my language, spirituality, career goals, passion for social justice, friendships. This year has just been an overhaul for me.

I have realized that who I have been previously doesn't limit who I am today and tomorrow. This year has opened me up to my DREAMS.

I think this writing prompt does a good job of explaining why it is I DOUBT myself. I've worked on my big brain more than my little heart. I've limited myself to wanting and pursuing that which those around me have wanted and pursued. A lot of those things are phenomenal. Like going to LMU to get my bachelor's degree. But I know the world is so much bigger than I can see and hear. I've learned to expand what I know and dream, to what I think and feel. And I've definitely opened my heart this year. One of my favorite quotes, now the little epitaph for this blog, is "When my heart breaks open, the whole world can fall in."

Here are some of my current dreams:
- Going to Indo to surf while I'm in Malaysia.
- Traveling to Thailand while I'm in Malaysia.
- Writing a book. I really am passionate about writing and I would love to write a piece of creative nonfiction.
- Spending a season living in a ski town so I can snowboard all the time.
- Spending a season living in the south of France picking grapes. One of my study abroad friends, Sam, had the opportunity to do this and the idea has haunted me ever since. As someone who has never done manual labor for a job, I know I'm being idealistic about this France thing. But there it is.
- Living in the Pacific Northwest at some point. And/or NorCal. And/or Colorado.

Who knows if any of these things will happen. But they're real! And I'm challenging myself now to always follow my instinct and intuition. To live with a BIG HEART (and a little brain too).

Pride.

Today marks the very center of Pride Month. And NYC does Pride Month big, with parades in every borough. I went to Brooklyn Pride last weekend with 2 of my roommates. It was quite an outing (no pun intended). But it was only ridiculous because it took us 2 hours by subway to get there. It would have taken 15 minutes by car. No lie. Part of this extended travel time was the G subway's fault. The other part was my fault because we got on the wrong train twice and had to travel back up and down the same track twice. Oops. Maybe that's a metaphor for the questioning/coming out experience? Once we got to the parade, we were by the start of the route so it was pretty low key. My favorite was some councilmember saying into a speakerphone: "Brooklyn - the lesbian capital of the world." I didn't know the parade would be so educational as well! My roommates and I watched a cheerleading squad do a routine and then headed over to Ginger's, a lesbian bar I've been wanting to check out. It felt good to go out with short hair :) I can only imagine how insane Manhattan Pride will be 2 weekends from now - I'm sure BK Pride was just a teeny tiny preview.

So in honor of Pride Month, my hair cut, the upcoming June 20th NY Senate vote on marriage equality and gender rights, my LGBTQ Issues workshop, and Lady Gaga's new album, I wanted to write an entry about how proud I am to be gay.

I like to think that I started coming out when I moved to New York on August 15. That was exactly 10 months ago. But I've been questioning my sexual identity for many years before this year started. I just didn't know it. Homosexuality just wasn't a reality I entertained for myself. It wasn't in my plane of vision. Anyway, I didn't start this entry with the intention of talking about my sexuality. I wanted to reflect on all the gay-oriented advocacy and education and awesomeness that have been a huge part of my NYC experience. If being gay wasn't in my plane of vision before, I've now (sky)dived into a world where not only am I gay, but I am out and proud and care deeply about gay issues and rights.

- In September, I went to Stonewall and Cubbyhole, well-known gay bars (Cubbyhole is a lesbian bar), for the first time. Stonewall was the setting of the 1969 riots that sparked the national gay rights movement. I mention this not because I had never been to gay bars before (I have, in LA), but because these 2 places became something like go-to places and were normalizing factors for me.

- In November, I went to the NYC LGBT Center to seek out an LGBT counselor because I was struggling with my identity and having a hard time finding motivation and focus at work. I ended up going to my therapist Sue for 3 months. And aside from the fact that it started out as LGBT counseling, going to therapy remains one of the highlights of this NYC year. It was eye-opening and life-giving. And when Andrew left, I was so grateful that I had Sue to help me process that.

- In December, other GSVs and I went to a feminism panel at the Brooklyn Museum. The panel was for a book called "Click: When We Knew We Were Feminists", about which I've blogged before. We found out about the event through Feministing.com. Courtney E. Martin, one of the editors of the book is also a Feministing.com editor. Shortly after that, my roommates started to go to a feminist bookstore called Bluestockings, where coincidentally we saw Courtney again, introducing another speaker. We have been to many feminist book readings at Bluestockings, on topics including the criminalization of gay people and transgender experiences. I'm pretty much obsessed with Feministing.com, Bluestockings, and feminist literature - all of which have been part of my education on gay issues.

- In January, my roommates and I went to an HRC (Human Rights Campaign) women's event on Long Island. It was basically a party to celebrate women. Quite a swanky affair at a beautiful hotel. My roommates and I chased after the hor d'oeuvres waiters and danced like it was the end of the world. But about HRC, I donated $10 when I first moved to NY to become a member and have been getting weekly emails about the fight for gay rights. These emails include news briefs, petitions, video clips and have been instrumental in my education on issues such as the DADT repeal, DOMA, and marriage equality. I proudly display the HRC equality sticker on my agenda which I carry around everywhere at work.

- In April, I took over the LGBTQ Issues monthly workshop at the Foyer. I have really enjoyed them. I love facilitating workshops at the Foyer and being able to talk about LGBTQ Issues with the residents is a great opportunity. I've since run 3 of those workshops. We've talked about coming out stories, defintitions/labels, marriage equality, bullying. The NYC homeless and runaway youth population is full of LGBTQ youth and the Foyer is no exception. A good number of our residents are out and, based on what I've heard at workshops, more are questioning. The Foyer program and Good Shepherd Services is so cognizant of being inclusive. I've been to several agency trainings on LGBTQ issues for work, which I think is amazing.

- Also in April, we went to a drag restaurant for my roommate Krystina's birthday. She's all about the drag queens and gay-ness. She also took us to a drag queen/drag king pageant earlier in the year. Such an experience, full of Nicki Minaj and voguing! All my roommates are so open about homosexuality and supporting it, so that has been something I am so grateful for. I would go so far as to label our little community as specifically gay-friendly. We're that awesome.

- In May, my roommate Jess and I went to an all day rally in Albany called Equality & Justice Day. We went with the New York Civil Liberties Union. We took a bus to the capital to attend workshops on marriage equality and gender rights bills, to speak in person to state senators and representatives, to get pumped about fighting for these bills, and to celebrate gay rights. It was an amazing day and this little blurb doesn't encapsulate how connected and ignited I felt. When I was at LMU, I did one phone bank in the fight to repeal Prop 8 in California. I did it because I thought it was right. Not because I was emotionally attached to the issue. It's funny to me that I've now become so invested in this state of NY, which has been my home for only 10 months. The pictures below are of Jess and I and some friends at E&J Day :)

To conclude, shortly and sweetly, I'm so grateful that NYC has opened up this world to me. I'm so grateful that I very much feel a part of it. It's still new, but I feel comfortable here. A big part of the reason that I would like to live in NYC again is that the gay community here is invigorating and lovely. I feel right, here.

The city that never sleeps.

Yes, it is 5:00AM EST on a beautiful Saturday morning as I start this blog entry. Yes, I am at work. Once or twice a month, I do an overnight shift at work. Overnight shifts at the Foyer are from 12 midnight to 8:00AM (so no, I don't actually know if it's beautiful outside right now). Truth be told, I don't mind overnight shifts. I know that in this city especially, tons of people work through the night. Plus, on weeks that I work overnights, I get Friday day off, work Sunday day, and then get Monday off. It almost feels rebellious. Almost.

I had plans to post a serious, thoughtful, life-revealing entry tonight. Now that more than half my shift is over, I'm not in the mood for insightful philosophizing. So instead, here's a fun list of the perfectly mundane things I like to do on my overnight shifts!

- Surf through YouTube videos from emails, Facebook, and random encounters.
- Watch Glee.
- Watch Modern Family. Except tonight when I tried to catch up, I found I could only watch the most recent episode in its entirety. The others only gave me 90 second previews! What has Hulu come to?? I still have 3 more episodes to watch :(
- Play with my hair. Today is the second time that I've had my hair cut during the day before my overnight shift.
- Talk to residents who come in slightly intoxicated. The really intoxicated ones don't stick around.
- Eat. I get really really hungry constantly during the nights. Probably my body's way of finding comfort since it doesn't get the comfort of a bed.
- Text people. This especially works out for the time difference with LA. One time I talked to Ana for 3 hours, which really helped the time pass.
- Catch up with Feministing.com and AngryAsianMan.com.
- Listen to music. I like to make YouTube playlists on my channel. Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me from keeling over.

And one of my coworkers just informed me last week that Netflix actually works. I thought it didn't. Too bad I only have one or two more overnights here. Nonetheless, we'll see if I can add that to the list as well.

Then of course I do have work. This includes: updating the daily log, doing rounds on the floors, checking my Outlook email, finishing whatever paperwork I have for the week, opening medicine boxes in the morning for a couple of the girls (because of their government funding stream, we have to keep their medicine locked up - we all hate this rule because it's a big inconvenience for everyone).

So in general overnight shifts pass by smoothly and easily. My body usually starts to feel super heavy around 4:30-5:30AM (it's the weirdest feeling - sometimes my body starts to feel like it's sinking into an imaginary bed), but once I get over that pre-dawn hump, I'm good.

Once 8:00AM hits and my relief shows up, I'm out the door! And without fail, the NYC morning invigorates me. Maybe it's leaving work. But I think it's more the eerily but peacefully quiet calm of 7th Ave at that hour. When I walk to the subway, I can see all the way down the avenue, past floating yellow cabs and rows of skyscrapers, all melting into the gray morning. I walk a couple blocks to get on the train for the sleepy ride home. As I join other subway travelers, whether they are going to work or just getting out of work or starting the fun of the weekend, I always feel a deep sense of satisfaction. I live here. I work here. It's happening here, in this legendary mythical city!

This is what a feminist looks like.

This past week, I got to see one of my best oldest friends Rochelle who was visiting NYC with 2 of her high school friends. Rochelle and I have known each other since kindergarten - almost 18 years!! We were part of our best friend crew "Cheristarenia" - roCHElle, kRIStina, TAmra, LAra, kathleEN, cynthIA. We were so cool. We were so cool we had to have two names for ourselves; we also sometimes went by "TaCynCheLaNaLee." After hanging out with Rochelle this week, I was just filled with joy and gratitude that our friendship is still solid after all these years. We didn't go to high school or college together and haven't been everyday fixtures in each other's lives, but when we do come together again, it's easy and real and life-giving. She is part of my foundation and always will be. Those roots go deep.

So, I started thinking about how blessed I am to have such amazing girlfriends in my life. My grade school best friends really are special! Yes, our friendships flourished in middle school and consisted largely of passing notes and talking about boys, but as we have grown our friendships have grown. I know I can count on them for support and love. We can no longer call ourselves a crew (it has been many years since some of them have spoken to each other and many more years since we have all been in the same room), but individually my friendship with each girlfriend is real and present. There have been challenges, but I have never experienced the pettiness or backstabbing that can be the downfall of friendships.

Thinking about this foundation of girl power coincides perfectly with my other floating thoughts concerning feminism. I recently finished two books - Click: When We Knew We Were Feminists edited by Courtney E. Martin and J. Courtney Sullivan and Bossypants by Tina Fey. (I should say here that the books belong to two of my current amazing feminist roommates, about whom I shall have to blog later). I absolutely love both books. Click is an anthology of essays by diverse women about their feminist aha moments and beginnings. Bossypants is Tina Fey in a book. What more could I want?

For one of the essayists in Click, her feminist awakening involved becoming friends with another feminist. She writes, "It's a relationship with an ally that enables you to inhabit your feminism." Several other essayists write about how having feminist mentors to guide them was powerfully formative. So even though Cheristarenia/TaCynCheLaNaLee never had group circles about feminism, I realize now how much they have influenced me. My most powerful friendships are with women and I realize that my grade school girlfriends are the foundation of why I believe so strongly in sisterhood. Sisterhood gives inspirational power to my all-women's service org Marians at LMU. Sisterhood gives physical power to groups like the Pink Sari Gang. Sisterhood gives comedic power to the cast of Bridesmaids and the dynamic duo Tina Fey and Amy Poehler.


Which brings me to Bossypants. One thing I wanted to mention in this entry about that book was Tina Fey's anecdote about going to a conference where women were asked to think about the time they first knew that they were becoming a woman: "Almost everyone first realized they were becoming a grown woman when some dude did something nasty to them."

This got me thinking about when I first knew I was becoming a woman, on top of thinking about my own feminist click moment. I can't think of one illuminated point in time when I knew I was a feminist - I sort of fell into knowing I am a feminist because of many experiences throughout my young life. As one essayist in Click so elegantly wrote: "This piece is disjointed and fragmentary and piecemeal...because that is how I came to feminism."

I find it interesting that as I thought about Cheristarenia/TaCynCheLaNaLee, I realized for the first time that a couple interactions with grade school male classmates definitely foreshadowed my future feminist self. The first interaction involved me academically competing with my classmates Raul and Stephen. I remember wanting to answer more questions correctly in class than them. I remember wanting to "beat" them in quizzes and tests. Yes, I was a geek. The second interaction involved myself and Tamra playing basketball at recess with KC and Stephen. I remember the satisfaction we received from being able to play with them and "beat" them there too!

Obviously, my feminism now isn't about "beating" the male population. I have no desire to see men downtrodden or inferior. But I can see that those elementary underpinnings influenced my feminist self because they involved the underlying assumption that I was just as good as the boys, if not better.

And that's basically Tina Fey's stance in Bossypants. She makes the great observation that people never ask Donald Trump how he can possibly be the boss of so many people, in the same way that people deprecatingly, whether intentionally or not, wonder to Tina all the time about how SHE manages being the boss of SO many people.

I'll have to think about and answer when I knew I was becoming a woman at some later date. But for this entry, I am a feminist because of my girlfriends, because I think women are undercelebrated, because of Jane Eyre, Marians, Tina Fey, Bluestockings, short skirts, poetry, emotions, sisterhood, POWER.