The Merlion....

The Merlion is sort of a Singapore mascot...with the head of a lion and the body of a fish.

Takin' a drink of Merlion spit...July 2009

Updating....

Thought I'd just try posting one picture at a time of some past adventures since I suck at doing it all at once....

Singapore skyline - July 2009 (yeah I know....I have an amazing ability to procrastinate)

Expiration Date....

October 18th - my last day of teaching. What am I gonna do? Uhhhhh.....yeah that's a good question! Any ideas???

Roots

I cried. I couldn't help it. This was the second time she'd tried and failed miserably. There was nothing I could do. There was nothing she could do. We can't communicate....it seems like it's always this way now.

In two days, I'll celebrate my two-year anniversary of being in Korea. Two years. TWO FRIGGIN' YEARS.

I don't even understand how that happened.

The first 9 months of being here, I snubbed my nose at all the people that had stayed in this country longer than a year. This is just a continuation of college....minus the classes. GOD, I can just feel myself getting dumber. Then I became one of them. Now I watch all the newbies widen their eyes every time I tell them that I've been here, "almost two years."

Two days before I mark this milestone and set off on another SE Asian adventure, I thought I'd celebrate with a trip to the salon for highlights and a trim. I usually revel in these sorts of things. Several friends of mine had recommended this salon. I was impressed with the set-up. After being ushered around and generally consulted about my wants and needs, two different people came and asked me about my color more specifically. They smiled and repeated the exact words I said with the usual Korean mistakes. It seemed promising. I foresaw myself spinning out of that chair with shiny golden locks that you only see on shampoo commercials.

After two ladies meticulously colored my hair and set it for ages in a conditioning "treatment," I was ready for the results. When the towel came off, my heart dropped. ROOTS....dark, dingy roots accompanied by god-awful streaks of orange and white. I explained myself once again to one of the girls. She apologized profusely and proceeded to re-color my hair, in particular - the roots. I watched her a bit more this time....and could tell it was going to be a hopeless cause. She was nervous. I don't think she actually knew what "root" meant or how to color it. I was probably the first white person she'd ever worked on.

After time number two came out just as disastrous, I couldn't help myself. I started to cry. I cried because I'm different and no matter how much they try to smile and make me feel welcome, I'm still a foreigner with a different physique that they just don't understand. I cried because I felt so helpless knowing that yelling, kicking and screaming would make no difference. They still wouldn't understand me.

I cried because of my roots. My dear roots that Asia just can't cover.

I'd give anything in the world to get in the Chrysler and drive down the road about 15 minutes to that little town with about 4 traffics lights called Maiden, North Carolina. I'd pull up in front of Backstreet Hair Company, forgetting to lock the doors and probably shouting, "Hey ya'll!" to an old familiar face or two. I'd walk in, plop down in the chair giving Teresa a vague idea of what to do and she'd start filling me in on all the latest gossip around town.

Two hours later, I'd spin out of the chair with shiny golden locks and absolutely no roots because you see, when you're home, you don't notice your roots.

Singapore - A Fine City!

Beautiful, clean city. Too friggin' hot, even for a southern gal and WAY too many rules for a rebel. Fine...fine....fine and I mean that in the legal sense. Basically don't do drugs here....or smoke in public....or litter.....or spit. Oh yeah and don't forget to flush the toilet, that'll be like 500 Singapore dollars. Don't pick the flowers. Don't urinate on the elevator/lift (actually that's not a bad one but why would that even need to be in the lawbooks???) And don't chew gum or feed the poor helpless dirty pigeons. All of the above will cost you.

Honestly though, I had an amazing time. Ben and Tina showed me the "finer" side of the city and it was so nice, I forgot all about the ridiculous humidity, the silly rules and....what was that again? :)

Long time, no post...

I realized when even my mother had the time to check this thing out that it's high-time I did an update.....Need to add Singapore and Bali next I think....yeah? Alright, alright. On it.

Melaka

After some time in Kuala Lumpur's city metropolis, Ben and I decided it was time for a change of scene. Melaka is a quaint and sleepy little fishing city....well I would call it a town. It's small, very friendly, welcoming and laid back. For my southern folk, it has the feel of Charleston...probably because of the whole thing about it being a port town thing. However, the influence of architecture in this city is anything but Charleston. This place has been settled by the Portuguese, the Chinese AND the Dutch (and maybe the British also at some point but I can't quite remember....you can google it if you are that curious). It's the oldest city in Malaysia.

The following pictures are in completely random order.

A history museum built built into a ship, right alongside the river.

A cool shot outside a church that's been in existence since the 1500's.

A shot walking up to the church. It's such a beautiful area!

St. Paul's - a church almost half a century old!

The boardwalk - note the ferris wheel in the back! The "Melaka Eye" perhaps?

Where we stayed - The Aldy Hotel - a historical place. It felt very European and yet tropical all at the same time!

Inside the ship museum. Just posing on the steps....I felt very uh....Kate-Winslet-in-Titanic-like :)

We took a bicycle rickshaw ride...haha they really deck them out with sound systems, lights...stuffed monkeys...it's good, clean fun!

I met a former SK teacher! We had lots to share about teaching in SK. At that point (in June), she had been traveling SE Asia for 10 months!

No, it wasn't full of pictures of me as you might think a Museum of Enduring Beauty would be....no actually it was a Museum dedicated to "beauty" that takes serious endurance, such as tribal piercing and tattoos and foot-binding and such. I personally wouldn't call these things beautiful but to each his or her own I suppose...