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Cultural Pants with Mom

Have you ever gotten creative with your clothing? I certainly have. Tonight was just an average ‘work with what you’ve got’ kind of night with clothes. For tomorrow, I’d chosen to wear an Indian tunic – I think the actual name might be kurta, but I’m not sure. However, I don’t have any pants or leggings that really go with the colors of it, and black is totally not an option, because its bright colors are just too happy for black.

So, I asked my mom if she had any leggings or pants I could wear with the top. At first, she brought me Vietnamese yellow pants, which almost look Indian, but the color combined with the style was just not passable. The tunic is a sort of reddish pink, with orange and green embroidery and stitching. Bright yellow, baggy pants just weren’t the look I was going for. I wanted the focus to be the top, not the bottoms. I will wear said pants, however, on a different occasion, you can be sure.

After checking greens and purples, all to no avail, my mom brings in a skirt that is the exact color of the green embroidery and stitching of the tunic. The fabric is different, but the color is darn near exact. “But it’s a skirt,” I declared and repeated, somewhat laughing. I tried it on. My mom said it looked all right, but it totally was not the look I’d wanted. ‘This is what we call “cultural confusion”… I was going for “cultural fusion.”‘

We both laughed and stared at the perfect match of color and utter clash of styles.

And then I saw it. “Aha!” I bent over and grabbed the center of the skirt, both the front and back of it, through my legs. As I stood up, my mom knew exactly what I was doing.

Five minutes later, we had it. I eventually had to take it off and turn it inside out to make it all balance properly, but we knew it would work after the second knot I made while still wearing it. We tied the skirt in a few places in the center to give the illusion of one type of traditional Indian pants (think Indian yoga pants), and it worked marvelously. No, they don’t look exactly like the real thing, but they do look like what I’d wanted: cultural fusion and fabulous.

I wonder how it will go off tomorrow, in a world of latino heritage. I look forward to the opportunity to respond to something like, ‘Cool pants!’ with a, ‘Oh, thanks. I’m not wearing any.’ Or something silly like that. We’ll see. Whatever the case, though, I’ll be in an outfit that I love and that has been created with love from me and my mom. I think that’s the best part, as usual, of course.

P.S. I’ll see if I can get a photo of it all tomorrow at some point.

P.P.S. Okay, so it turned out that I wore the yellow pants to bed, because it was so cold, and they were soft and comfortable. Not what I’d had in mind when I considered wearing them soon, but oh, well… 😛

Post-a-day 2017

Unpaid, at last?

I realized today that right now is the perfect time for one of those necessary unpaid internships designed to get into a field of work. I have a place to live, and am mostly provided food and water, and all without immediate cost to me. And I have support from family to pursue what I feel is best. I just need to keep up my end of the semi-agreement for the next toward a half (-ish) months, and I expect that the food and shelter will remain available to me at the same cost for quite some time… giving me the perfect opportunity to test out those jobs that have intrigued me, but would not offer money for the first little while of working in them.

We shall see..

Post-a-day 2017

A foreigner at home?

Have you ever felt out of place within your own culture? As time passes, it happens to me more and more often. Last night, I attended an event with coworkers. The noise volume took me by slight surprise when I first arrived. How can people be this loud? I thought. And then I remembered almost before I finished asking the question: They’re americans (from the USA).

But I’m american from the US, too. Wouldn’t I be used to this, then?

I quickly compared it to a drinking party at an izakaya (like a bar) with nomihodai (all-you-can-drink) in Japan. Yes, the Japanese can get quite loud there. It was never to the point of wanting to cover my ears, though, I hear myself thinking. So, I am very much accustomed to a much quieter environment for parties, then. I’m not just being a bit dramatic and overly sensitive to normal behavior and a normal situation.

Even still… I felt so oddly out of place, I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with myself. I ended up semi-hiding in the coatroom (it wasn’t a closet, but an actual room, I promise) to take a breather from all the people and the noise from time to time. I also took extra-long any time I went to the bathroom, because it was cozy and quiet in there on my own. Yes, I could have just gone home. However, I rarely spend time even around people who aren’t high schoolers right now, so I felt it was somewhat necessary – even if just for social practice – to spend time around adults, especially happy ones in a good, safe environment.

I definitely adjusted after a bit, but I still felt quite out of place for most of the event. I guess I’m just not so USA american anymore… which doesn’t surprise me, really. It’s just odd, not belonging in a place everyone calls my “home”.

Post-a-day 2017

Writing, math in life…

I’ve been on the phone with my college flatmate tonight, talking about writing. Apparently, I actually do have some fun and crazy ideas that would be really interesting for people to read – she didn’t even understand how I got to the sorts of ideas that regularly come to mind, simply as the normal order of thinking in my head. So, I guess that’s not so normal as I’d thought it to be, having such ideas so casually and regularly.

The thing is, I haven’t set up sitting down to do it. Not yet, anyway, and not for long enough. I’ve noticed that writing at night is not the way to go for me. For other things, sure – I can do loads of physical movement at night. For writing, however, I’m next to hopeless, it feels. I don’t feel much like writing anything in the first place at night, and so I struggle to find something to write, and then I make loads of errors in what I do finally write. It just isn’t a good combination.

Speaking of combinations, I was talking with students in my geometry class today about how math can be useful in life in cool ways. One example was from a show my stepdad watches about the TV show “The Walking Dead”. It’s sort of a behind-the-scenes sort of show, and this particular bit that I saw was talking about everything they had to do in order to set up a car crash. It was really cool, seeing everything broken down, all of the things they had to organize to make it work. The best part, perhaps, was seeing how it was pure geometry and physics that made the crash work flawlessly.

The other example was in a little photo shoot I was witnessing (and had to abandon for distress), in which the photographer said that they were supposed to be sitting in a Christmas tree formation. But she didn’t do anything to make this happen. She didn’t even seem to know what needed to be done for this shape to happen. (The people in charge definitely seemed to be lacking in general crowd control and effective instructions arenas, too.) It occurred to me that she never considered just getting the number of people – I’d have done it ahead of time, but on the sport would have worked just finely, too – expected in the photo, and dividing them up into the necessary number of people per row, based on the exact shape desired and the number of rows available. I was about to begin the calculations as I watched, but then realized that no one was going to listen to me anyway, so it was better if I just left the stressful situation, since that was the only thing I actually could do in the situation. So, I left. But it proved to be a good example to the kids in class at how math is present in life in ways that people don’t even consider. Had the photographer thought about math, – and it is likely that she didn’t, because she wasn’t very confident in or in love with math while in school – the whole photo shoot could have gone loads better than it did. And they could have had the Christmas tree, and even decorated with “lights” or an outline, using the different shirt and jacket colors present and available. But she didn’t, so none of that happened.

Post-a-day 2017

Free/Me Time…?

My cousin wants me to start work on this work-out plan, with a very unique tie into a specialty of mine. The idea itself sounds like something totally awesome not only to create, but also to use once it is created. The task, though, feels almost daunting right now, in the midst of my minimal free/me time. I hardly get enough sleep to function decently right now, I have so little time to accomplish anything that has me feel accomplished, satisfied with my day, I have to do it all late at night before I pass out. I hardly have the time to exercise the way I want (Actually, I don’t have the time and energy to do it the way I actually want to do it, but I am finally getting in some exercise (at last!), though it has me getting to bed even later, which doesn’t help on the muscle restore front after the exercise).

I love the work I am doing right now, and I am dearly grateful for it – it is a blessing in and of itself. I am very much looking forward to what comes next, when this current job is finished. I will miss this, and I will be grateful to have moved to the next thing. It will be time. (I think that is really the main thought behind all of this right now.)

Anyway, goodnight…

Post-a-day 2017

Bring your parents to work?

Do you remember showing your parent(s) around your classroom when you were little? Perhaps this is a little too American white bread, but I certainly remember it.

I was all too excited to show them my sleeping mat and cubby hole when I was in kindergarten, and then my desk and the hook for my backpack as I got older in elementary school. In middle school, it became my locker, where I sat for lunch, and my favorite classrooms and teachers, but with just a little less enthusiasm each year. By high school, I was not so animated as I had been as a little girl, but I still loved getting to show my parents or family members around my school. Grandparents Day was one of the coolest things, because I got to do just that with my grandparents. College was a little different, because it’s college. However, I still totally loved showing my parents around my campus and dorms, and introducing them to all of my friends and acquaintances and teachers that I could find. Even when I studied abroad, I reveled in showing them my stomping grounds.

And it was normal at each stage to be showing my parents around the areas. But it is not normal now. Why does that suddenly stop when we become “adults” and being “real jobs”? I don’t know of anyone who shows his or her parents or family members around his/her office.

But now that I am an adult and I have a job (I’ve had many already, actually), my desire to show around my parents and family members hasn’t changed. When my brother was visiting from Japan, I desperately wanted him to come see my classroom, see my apartment. I giddily showed my mom around my first school (for my first full-time teaching job), when I convinced her to come to a dance performance there one evening. My desire to have my parents be able to relate to my everyday has not lessened, not at all. I still want them to see my everyday stomping grounds. And, for the most part, I’ve been able to get them to see a decent amount of it these past few years. Even in Japan, where guests aren’t typically allowed on campus, I got to bring my mom to both of my schools, and she helped teach a cooking class for the English Club at one school, and helped out with English classes at the other.

So, I guess my concern isn’t all too valid after all… I somehow manage to make it happen for me, anyway. However, I do still wish that it were more of a cultural standard to bring one’s parents and/or family members to work, at least for a coffee or tea hour, or something like that, just so they can have a real glimpse of what it all is. I just think it would be way awesome. Kind of like how Open House used to be, where I’d go meet my teachers with my parent/s, and show my parent/s around my school. Man… this would be neat. It also would be very helpful in cross-(whatever the word is for work areas – I’m tired, okay?) interaction and understanding. My dad works in computers and oil & gas. He would be amazed to see my work, and I to see his. They are just such different worlds that we have much to be learned from interacting with one another’s worlds.

I imagine loads of people would be utterly uninterested in this idea, but I hope that loads also would be in full support of it.

Post-a-day 2017

Missing…

I miss my bed in Japan. My bedroom, especially, is one thing I miss most these days. It was a haven for me. No matter what kind of chaos or boredom lurked in my life, every night, my bedroom awaited me in calm, open, and empty space… in beauty. I shut my doors, and was safe in my retreat from everything else. Only love and blessings were ever allowed into my bedroom. I wasn’t even allowed to walk in it if I hadn’t recently showered. Clean clothes, my ukulele and ukulele music, my nighttime books, and water and tissues were just about all that ever went in there, aside from a clean me and my bed.

My bedroom now is slightly larger, but filled with boxes and stuff… a sentimentality to which I am not so sure I still want to cling. I think I am afraid that I will forget the memories, if I get rid of the objects. I do not, for the most part, want the objects, but the memories and the ways I felt. Without the objects, what will remind me?

Post-a-day 2017

ukulele, poke, and cray-zay

(Those all rhyme, in case you were wondering.)

Tonight, again, I spent some time with friends after school. I napped briefly in the car, while I waited for them to arrive at our early dinner location. We had a silly time figuring out how to order our Poke (think of a short “okay” with a p in the front), and chatted and ate and chatted some more, before heading outside to chat and dance and do acrobatic bits (because, why would we not do such things?). We were all a bit tired, but only ended our time together, because the two of them had to go pack (one is moving apartments tomorrow, and the other is leaving to visit Australia for vacation).

At lunchtime, I had a Spanish-speaking lunch with some students, while I played ukulele alongside one of them. I dragged kids through knowledge, forcing them to think and do well on their tests – I actually handed some tests back immediately, telling them, “No,” go fix this stuff. After school, I played a birthday song for a different student, and gave her a guitar string ring I made in Japan (not because she’s my favorite or anything, but because she always steals my jewelry during class, and hopes I won’t make her give it back. So, I figured I’d give her something of her own that was sort of mine. It was fun playing the song and singing for her. I had forgotten how fulfilling it was, when I’d sung for my dad’s 64th birthday (“When I’m 64” by the Beatles, of course).

Yes, I feel satisfied in my day today. It was good and fulfilling, an oddly uncommon combination for me in recent years. I am delighted with this having happened twice this week. I look forward to the next one and many to come. 🙂

Post-a-day 2017

a day to consider my life

I stayed home from school today, sick. Just like when I was younger, my mom made me feel guilty for even considering staying home. That is one thing that I do not miss about living in a different country from my mom. I fully thought through the situation, before deciding anything – if I had had anyone else feeling as I felt this morning, I would have wanted the person to stay home (and also stay away from me). This was not about disliking my work, as it has been in the past at times. I was genuinely sick (and still am).

My mom doesn’t get sick very often, and only has a sort of slight cold, whenever she does get sick. But she gets to sleep. I used to be like that, rarely getting sick, and having it be mild, just requiring water and a single night’s sleep to rid myself of it. But working life stole my long nights of sleep and weekends of rest, and traded stress and distaste for them. I clearly am not a fan of the trade – I now get sick regularly, though mostly just when it’s cold out.

So, today, I stayed home, sick. I handled what I needed for work, gargled some warm salt water, and then went back to sleep. I woke up once, in desperate need of a potty break, and then downed some more water, and went back to sleep. I didn’t really get up until my second potty break awakening, and, even then, I only got up, because it was 1:30pm, not because I felt ready to get up.

Now, late at night, I am hardly able to stay awake to accomplish my bedtime goals, despite my sleep from last night. I am only awake this late anyway, because my mom and I agreed to watch a film together, and it was pushed back, and then paused and rewound so many times, that our initial ending time of 9:30pm was much later.

Anyway, the whole point of this is that 1) I need more sleep in my daily life (or nightly, I suppose), 2) I really enjoyed spending the day working on some writing (that’s what I did, once I was awake and having tea), and 3) I found today ironic. While I was in Japan, all alone so often, including when I was sick, and just longing to have someone be with me, like it had been back in the USA, I had longed to have someone spend time with me and take care of me when I was feeling poorly, and expected to find that once back in the US. But I was all alone today, on my first sick day in the USA. And I really got to be alone with my thoughts, which was useful and somewhat frightening. I have much more to consider in my life right now, and today helped me to see some unique parts of it all.

A fun final piece of my illness today, is that I discovered it surprisingly satisfying to eat the heads of Darth Vader and the Clones in my Star Wars SpaghettiOs. I haven’t had SpaghettiOs in years, but this was a fun one to have, especially for being sick.

Post-a-day 2017

A quality life

Life is beautiful, and I am grateful to have a role in it. I worry at times that I am not using my gifts and talents to the fullest to benefit the world, and that I might reach the end of my life and feel I have not accomplished a satisfactory amount, given enough, created enough. Though, I suppose quality is greatly important in the matter. Nonetheless, is my current work in life (not necessarily my paid work, but my works, things I do in my life) of the quality that I want it to be? Am I being the quality person I want to be? Right now, I’m not sure. It is something I have not really considered, I think.

I suppose I will consider it now…

Post-a-day 2017