A Stunning Final Product

Just one more day left in San Francisco and I’m dreading leaving this cool weather behind. But, gotta get back to my universal man, Bubba. I have been gorging myself on just about everything I won’t be able to get my hands on over there: banh-mis, pad see-ew,chow fun, fresh sushi and my tapioca teas.
Bubba said they finally had a nice, long-awaited rain storm today and he went and scrubbed his truck with soap and a brush, no water hose needed.
Seems I have been missing out on some interesting events. Bubba has been regaling me with stories of his Mennonite neighbors in Tennessee. Bubba’s step-dad sold a large amount of land to them for a very reasonable price. All the men wear button shirts, slacks and suspenders no matter how hot it is. They all have long beards. The women wear long dresses with head bonnets. Bubba says they take care of the land efficiently and even the parts they don’t own. The other day, a young Mennonite struck up a conversation with Bubba, after hearing about his Army background. He asked Bubba to tell him about the military as it is a restricted topic in their community and he is interested in joining. He also expressed his minor vexation with not being able to have a television set or listen to music. What a quiet world it must be for them!
--But silence can be golden. These last few days I've been surrounded by noise, crowds and commotion. Though, I have to admit my cousin’s wedding was definitely impressive. The final product she visualized and worked on for six months was executed seamlessly.
(BTW, everyone congratulated me for successfully making it down the aisle as bridesmaid with a fractured foot and a flowing black, satin dress, though I did have the aid of a heavy walking cast boot.)
The ceremony was perfect. It took less than 15 minutes for the minister to speak and the couple to read their vows and make it official. It was brilliant how my cousin alluded to having her very own Jerry Maguire moment in her vows and slipped in, “You complete me.”
Everything from renting the ceremony and reception sites, renting party supplies, to the catering, down to the very details of the table setting made me realize how overwhelming wedding planning is, especially if taken on personally.
But my cousin and her husband pulled it off with the help of absolutely dedicated friends and family. The maidens and groomsmen took on their tasks with such vigor and loyalty throughout. They even shed their elegant attire for jeans and t-shirts in order to tidy-up and even my cousin-in-law’s mom was in the kitchen washing dishes at the end of the night! From out of thin air, it seems, my creative cousin pulled off a stunning final product, a gala to remember!

Ouch, My First Br-e-a-k!

I’m back in lovely San Francisco for the week. The sky is especially blue and sunny this time of year. It’s a refreshing change from the humidity of the East, where we sweat through our shirts, standing outdoors in a mere few minutes. Here, it stays fresh and brisk all day long.
So, with the gracious invite to walk down the aisle as a bridesmaid at my darling cousin Liza’s wedding this Saturday, I decided it was time to consult with a professional about my hurt foot, still splinted. Being back in my neck of the woods, I figure I have more resources at my disposal.
My morning consisted of exhaustive, compulsive googling for free or low-income health services in the city. I found a list of so-called free clinics in the city and called all of them. The catch is we have to demonstrate absolute financial hardship. The financial evaluation requires paperwork galore; tax returns, bank statements, identification, etc, etc. Eventually, when medical services are rendered, it may be free or billed according to a sliding scale at designated clinics. The problem is my small savings account, that I am living off, makes me ‘ineligible’ for free services. I was constantly referred to General Hospital’s Urgent Care and I've read conflicting reviews. I could not imagine sitting in a room for upwards of 10 hours, amongst a varying ensemble of characters, awaiting x-rays. Finally, I decided I would simply pay for x-rays out of my pocket and called a few radiology clinics but learned I needed a physician referral. I tried locating the primary care doctor I saw when insured for a referral but she moved. An office visit with another doctor could cost me from $200 to $400 (their quote). Finally, desperate and at wit's end, I found a free clinic with no x-ray machines but an on-site foot doctor. It is a first-come first-serve clinic in an undesirable part of the Tenderloin district where I still had to prove my dire straits. With all the odds stacked against me, I decided I would just sit in front of this skid row clinic at dawn tomorrow and talk my way in. But my networking mom unexpectedly came through for me. She telephoned a doctor acquaintance for help. Within one minute, she secured me an instant appointment with in-office x-rays. She drove me to the office of Dr. Dennis Lee, a chiropractor in Japantown. I was so thankful to be talking live with a professional. He took four different x-ray images of my foot. Sure enough, there is a fracture of the pinky toe bone, in the metatarsal area Bubba has suspected all along.
Strange how, now that it's confirmed, it seems to hurt more! Dr. Lee provided his professional insight stating since I have already gone four-weeks without medical intervention, the injured bone is likely already re-calcifying and healing itself. Otherwise, earlier emergency treatment could have resulted in resetting of the bone with a pin and a cast. I still have that option now…but again I’m ‘uninsured!’(And I'm way too tired to whine about our country's healthcare system today.)
The doctor advised that I start bearing weight on my foot as soon as the pain dulls as this actually helps the bone to heal quicker. He also suggested all the care that Bubba has been providing, such as bandaging up the foot tightly to immobilize it and to stabilize the broken bone. And at the end, the good doctor only charged me $30 for the x-rays and consultation. No there isn't an additional zero after that figure! What a Samaritan!!!
It’s definitely a treat to be back in familiar surroundings, but home, I’ve learned, can be any place where there is family or even a friend and I’m lucky enough to have them all over the world.

Consumption Reduction

It feels so archaic to still have the smoking or non-smoking option out here. What an unusual experience to come out of the stifling heat and humidity for some welcome AC relief, and to find indoor areas reeking of heavy, odorous fumes. Some counties are beginning the indoor ban but tough enforcement is still lacking.
We left Ohio yesterday and drove through a mild thunderstorm. The rain cooled the temps down from 100 to a comfortable 70 degrees. We are staying in lodgings at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, the military installation. Today the temps rose as high as 115. Fort Campbell is situated across two states: Kentucky and Tennessee. It’s funny to think how we are crossing the state border every time we drive a few blocks here and there. We have Bubba’s daughter, Kat for the weekend. After this weekend, I fly out to San Francisco for my cousin’s wedding and I already have the taste of tapioca teas and Thai noodles in my mouth.
I fly back out in a week to meet Bubba in Tennessee. He will take me to the patch of land that his step-dad offered him. After watching an episode of ‘Cribs’ on MTV, we jokingly entertained surreal ideas of what we could have, since the land stretches about 30 acres. Bubba said we could build up to 20,000 square-feet, a palatial log-cabin. He wants a huge open room that can hold up to 100 people furnished with a single, giant round table. He also referred to building a longhouse. When he draws the plans, I think I will stealthily insert a loft bedroom for myself with some kind of exercise room. But the idea of permanent country-living is still up-in-the-air. Look at what country life is doing to me: I molded a facial impression of 'guess who?' with hot paraffin wax...--->
We are planning to stay mobile with Asia as a near future destination. I'm also eyeing Eastern Europe and the Balkans with intense interest.
We have been budgeting rather well, with most of our funds going toward fuel for our vehicle, lodgings and the meals we must eat.
Some days, I am very inspired by the idea of people who have committed to reducing consumption.
I read an article about people who willingly gave up impulse shopping and instead pledged one year to economizing and buying only the absolute necessities, like food and toiletries. Some have even found it easy to extend the pledge beyond one year.
I often wonder why we buy so much. It’s so easy to spend unnecessary money daily. The folks who practiced curbing consumerism had some creative stories of how they were able to come into things they wanted (but not need) without having to pay, such as a Christmas tree.
And what about the original, ingenious system of bartering?! I even came across a story of a man who managed to trade a red paperclip for a house!

Happy Left-Handers Day to me!

My entries of late have been so text heavy, so here is an image, taken from a moving vehicle, of what I get to see in this part of suburban Ohio. Corn-fields and soybean fields.

I awoke this morning to a call from my older brother. He is a Wall Street guy and a genius. While we were growing up, he excelled in all of his Math and Science classes. He participated in national competitions, won awards and took evening college courses while he was still in high school. He is the first-born in our family and I'd like to think he claimed all the intellectual genes prior to my birth. If it weren't for Statistics, I think I'd still be in college now trying to get through Trigonometry.
Anyhow, he called needing help on communicating with a French account holder. Even though I earned a French degree, I was sure that there would be bank jargon unfamiliar to me. I was afraid something would get lost in translation. I was a little unnerved, told my brother that I'm rusty, but here was my chance to be of service to a big brother who has done so much for me.
A lovely woman, speaking in clear Paris French came on the line and explained her issue. Before I could even translate, my genius brother figured out what she was saying and responded in English. I felt a little defeated until the Parisian lady asked me what he had just said. She didn't understand English, even though she knew how to say a few words. We were able to resolve her inquiry. I found my French progressing in fluidity during the call and it felt like getting back on a bike after a long break. I spent my morning sitting around elated, day-dreaming of France.

Read the news and found out today is International Left Handers Day. I haven't really paused to think about how much of my life has been affected by being a southpaw, but recall the brass burns we suffered (on our face and hands) while test firing blanks in the prone position with our M-16 rifles in the Army. There is a deflector but it doesn't always block fast, flying hot brass.
I have had the good fortune of being born in a generation that stopped passing judgement on us. I suppose that most of us (there's an estimated 13% of us in the world) learn to become ambi-dextrous. I wear my watch on my left wrist and I have a tendency to pick up my fork with my right hand to eat, except with chopsticks. I realized that when playing sports for instance, I use both hands. In softball, I like to bat left but pitch right. I use scissors even hammers with my right hand. We have had to learn to adapt to a world designed for right-handers. There is a saying, though that cheerfully describes us lefties, 'We're the only ones in our right mind!'

Healing Mom

With my foot and knee still in recovery, I have been hibernating. The family took me out for a day to a mall so I could get some daylight and air. The mall ran out of courtesy wheelchairs so Bubba talked me into riding in a shopping cart. He pushed me throughout the mall. Bubba said that babies in their strollers stared at me in jealousy and awe.
I can see how much my left calf has shrunk. I can hardly wait until I can do what I love, run again! Even though I haven't had any exercise since my injury, I still feel fit and I have Bubba's mom to thank. My delicious meals are prepared and set out for me daily. Her meals are so light yet filling. I've noticed that even when she serves us a fried meal, I do not feel any discomfort or indigestion.
I learned that Bubba's step-dad was one of the very first patients to undergo pancreatic removal surgery more than a decade ago. He was given a 50-50 chance of survival. After the surgery, the doctors did not have any dietary advice to provide so Bubba's mom enrolled herself in a homeopathy school. She learned all the healing properties of herbs and plants and incorporated them into her cooking.
It has been more than a decade and her husband is still going strong. While he is still on a waiting list for a pancreas transplant, the doctors are so impressed with his health and condition. Bubba's mom was even invited by the doctors to teach nutrition.
She continues her love of learning by schooling herself on yoga and meditation.
She has lived such a storied life. She was widowed in her 30's when her first husband died from war injuries. She was left alone with four children to raise, found a career and got right to work. It wasn't until all the kids were grown that she considered a partner again. I once complimented her on her perpetual calm and composure. She explained to me that the tragedy of being widowed so young taught her to never question life or resent life but to live it.
What an amazing mom, a healing mom.

Wal-Mart=Civilization

My Canadian cousin has been following my blog and commented that I should add tons of imagery to give her an idea of the scenery during our drive. She said she would even be interested in pictures of the highways we drove on. I admit I haven't been disciplined in creating an adjoining Flickr account. The thought of loading and labeling over 500 pictures we have is daunting!
I started to examine my surroundings and figured I'll go ahead and describe the imagery here, afterall, I'm a writer not a painter.
Bubba's parents' home is situated in a suburban part of Ohio outside of Dayton. It is very country. Yes, there are cornfields and soybean fields all around us. The entire community here is connected by winding two-lane highways. People have so much land. Houses and barns sit on five or more acres of manicured lawns. It is very green all around. Right now, because it's summer, it is very humid. We've had ongoing heat advisories. It's in the high 90's. On some properties, there are numerous, giant bales of hay. Bubba explained to me that these balls of hay are mechanically baled. It's a sight to watch farmers drive these tractor-combines, scooping up hay and spitting it out in perfect bales.
One day during our drive, Bubba told his daughter Kat that PETA wanted farmers to do away with round hay bales. "Why?," Kat asked perplexed. Then came Bubba's punchline, "because they said the cows weren't getting a square meal."
To see all this wide open space, I often wonder how people live. I wonder how children grow up and what people do for a living. Bubba's mom said this area's industry is predominantly linked to car-making, steel-making and paper-making factories.
I filter my new surroundings through my city-girl lens and find all this so novel, so unique.
When we exit this country-esque maze, we are guaranteed to find the expected community fixtures; Cracker Barrel, Bob Evans, White Castle, Shoney's, Big Boy, Dairy Queen and of course the neighborhood Super Wal-Mart. After driving about 10-15 miles, the sighting of such retail establishments are symbols of civilization to me. Although, I am a fan of Wal-Mart, I still miss the mom-and-pop shops we have back in San Francisco, not to mention the year-long cool weather.
The weather difference alone between California and the East Coast is reason enough to migrate back, but the cost-of-living out here is so much more reasonable. A mansion-like home, along with a few acres come with a mere quarter of a million dollar price tag, whereas in California, the price surpasses the one-million mark.
I am dazed by the Bay Area's exorbitant real-estate market but there is a price to an agreeable standard of life. Summer out here means staying indoors with the central AC cranked high but in San Francisco, it's taking a jog along the cool and picturesque Pacific and having a hot cocoa afterwards.

My Very Own Survivorman

Now that I know for sure that I have a few dedicated readers to my blog, I feel a responsibility to post some kind of entry, no matter how mundane my day may have been or how uninspired I am feeling. (Thank you for reading!)
I have still been nursing my foot or rather Bubba has and have started walking more with the splint he made me. The bruising is receding towards my toe and ankle. The raw wound on my knee started to improve two days ago when I insisted Bubba get me the real Neosporin cream with pain relief rather than the bacitricin he has been applying.
I spend my days reading magazines and books in the basement. We usually stay up until about 2 AM Eastern Time. Last night, I stayed up until 3 AM because I was so intrigued by the show Survivorman starring Les Stroud.
It's like Man vs. Wild, with Bear Grylls. Les Stroud, on the other hand, does not have an accompanying camera crew. He is completely alone and films himself.
It was listening to Bubba's commentary while Les was executing his survival skills on TV, that I was instantly reminded and relishing in my happy reality, that I have my very own survivorman. Bubba was predicting the things that Les would do before he did it. In one scene, when Les trapped a showshoe hare (rabbit) for consumption, Bubba informed that rabbit meat does not have protein and would not be a good source of survival food. Then Les said the same thing, calling it 'protein poisoning' because rabbits have no fat, unless the bones, brains and eyes are all consumed. Bubba explained the science behind Les starting a fire from solely an engine battery and gasoline and later with a charred piece of cloth. Bubba's replies sounded like paraphrasing of what Les would eventually say.
My heart buoyed with absolute confidence that Bubba would ensure my survival in the most adverse conditions if we were to ever encounter any.
I indulged in my fortune of having found myself this former special-ops soldier as a life-partner.
My lazy afternoons in Ohio right now is making me somewhat restless. I find myself reading a few passages from a handful of books, reading the news and writing goals I plan to accomplish even though we are not on a schedule.
I am researching correspondence classes on earning credentials to be a travel specialist. I figured since I am a rather seasoned traveler, having seen Europe solo and visited parts of Asia, that I can provide some very good insight to first time travelers. I once thought of high school and college students as my target demographic but realized that there are some adults who have never left the USA.
It would be so fun to explain Rome or Paris to an interested traveler and to suggest an itinerary and to help with the planning and paperwork and be able to sell flight and Eurail tickets!
It's good to have goals in life. Sometimes, the ones we initially select isn't really what destiny intended for us.
Even though I've aspired to manifest a life in the service of our government, I realize that what makes me the happiest is traveling, interacting with different cultures and telling stories. Maybe someday, I could still find myself in the Pentagon, working as an advisor but for now, I am content. I told Bubba that we should prepare for a life abroad in Asia in late 2008 so I can harness a new language through cultural immersion. He is ready and willing.
There are days I miss having my own home, a place I can make as personal and charming as Dina's. But then I figured, we can be confined to a place, a career and a mortgage at anytime. This self-made freedom may not last forever.
I just have to keep finding inspiration...even if it's derived from something as simple as a quote.
"Begin at once to live, and count each separate day as a separate life," by Seneca. 'Tis true, I have the option to reinvent myself at any given time for tomorrow is a new day.

Live In The Moment

A blossoming penchant toward existentialist philosophy has been creeping over me these last few months and has since increased while on the road. I am beginning to concur with the adage of living in the moment.
Last month, I came across an eloquent newspaper article on Roz Savage from the UK. Her claim to fame was successfully rowing solo across the Atlantic Ocean in 103 days in 2006.
Her story is inspirational. She was provoked to reevaluate her life after a class assignment required her to write her own obituary. She gave up everything, her home, her job, her husband to live out her life. She is now planning to launch a solo trip to cross the Pacific Ocean which also includes an environmental message.
Though my journey across the country is not exactly a challenging voyage, I find myself glad not to be sitting in a cubicle, whittling my prime hours away, working a job I’m not passionate about.
On our drive through Kentucky back to Ohio, a few days ago, we traveled northbound on I-71. I saw a sign off the highway stating: Site Of Fatal Bus Crash 1988.
I-71 is a four-lane, two directional highway separated by a grassy median. I surveyed the road, imagined the bus accident and thought about where I was then…I was in the 8th grade in San Francisco. At that age I was not quite savvy enough, nor worldly enough, nor patient enough to learn about the events of the country and world.
I just now looked it up online and learned that it was ‘fatal’ because the bus (a church bus) turned into an inferno after a collision caused by a drunk driver and 27 passengers died. I looked out our car window, after digesting those heavy words on the sign that afternoon, and watched the world just whizzing by. Our truck continued to coast the 70 mph speed limit, cars buzzed in front, beside and behind us, buzzards circled in the sky over the towering, deciduous trees that lined the highway and I realized that life goes on with or without some of us.
As we headed towards Cincinnati, Ohio, we came upon stopped traffic. A car had a serious accident. Space had to be made for a helicopter to land onto the highway to urgently air-lift the wounded. The vehicles on the highway backed up to an eerie standstill. And even then as an injured clings to life, time continues its vigorous movement, forcing us forward to meet our individual schedules and destinations.
The tragedy with the bridge collapse in Minnesota is another example. In the news, a missing person, whose car was found in the river, was located at work the next day. Though this person’s actions could be the result of shock and trauma, people have become so ingrained with following rules and routines.
The world presses on in the face of tragedy, grief, violence, disequilibrium, commotion.
So why not be like Roz Savage and seek out the high-tides and our personal passions?! And if time suddenly expired for us, we’ll be forever immortalized for living in the moment and what an extraordinary obituary piece that’ll make.

No Place In Particular

In order to stretch out our finances, we are relying on the generosity of family and friends.
Back in San Francisco, we still have a furnished bedroom in my mother's house. My car sits in her garage and she let us put a storage shed filled with our life's belongings in her backyard.
Here in the East, we are currently staying at Bubba's step-dad's and mom's in Ohio. They built a spacious, airy basement underneath the house. There is a bedroom, a bathroom and huge cedar closets but it is the kitchen and large family room that merits admiration. The modest, marble kitchen overlooks the family room. There is a round table to host guests with food and drink. There is a fireplace, a TV set and big, comfy sofas for lounging. This is our hang-out until we make our next move.
In a few weeks, we will be heading over to the east of Tennessee where Bubba has a few acres of land to work with. Bubba is considering putting up a big log-cabin there. We may also consider a modular, also known as pre-fabricated houses. Bubba said we can start building the log-cabin together next spring. He only wants one big common room as it will only be a seasonal residence, but I am requesting a private bedroom and bath to be built just for me.
It was quite unnerving, making the decision to drop everything to follow Bubba recently. I was torn. I lived with him for four years but I figured being 10 years his junior, there were still trails I wanted to blaze. In his case, he's seen and done it all. He was married, has kids, had a mortgage, had a career. He is a highly decorated veteran. I earned a triple major college degree not long ago with a passion for writing, politics and everything French. I toiled and sweated for my commission as a lieutenant in the US Army. I thought about a career in Politics and Journalism...but instead my trail led me to Bubba. I suppose I'm not following the new-age advice that women need to be independent and self-sufficient. It may appear that my aspirations have been put onto the back-burner but I am actually having fun! I haven't been tired or worried these past few months. I have also regenerated my passion for leisure writing, right here!
Bubba is an incredible man. He spent this evening building a walking splint for my foot, with some medal rods and memory foam. His ex-wife gave me a set of 'real' crutches when we dropped Kat off. They work great together, giving me some mobility now.
Whatever may mystify us, Bubba can come up with a designer solution. He speaks German, Hongu and Tagalog and he can understand French. During our drives, he can identify every animal we come across. We have seen a hawk, a condor, buzzards, chipmunks, an elk and even a road runner! Beep, Beep!
Bubba also adopted a pet snake, California King Snake, beautifully striped, that happened to crawl into his sleeping bag earlier this spring. Bubba's wildlife recognition helped him realize it was friendly and non-venomous. He picked it up, put it in his pocket and brought it home. Named Sneek-e for its fast crawling, it has been a part of our family for four months and has grown from eight inches to 17 inches now!
I am seeing America in all her splendor. Lush and green, with fascinating snippets of history like Lincoln's birthplace, the Amish community, countrysides and cities and having the time of my life. Though we have no place in particular to go, I'm not merely watching the world go by..I'm going with it!

Special Delivery

Bubba's mom filled us up with delicious, ethnic food all week long. She cooked her signature Korean dishes everyday: japchae, bulgogi, vegetable tempura, rice noodle soup, gimbap...each meal was accompanied with a variety of homemade pickled sides such as cucumbers, radishes, carrots, napa cabbage (she made regular and spicy kimchee), moo (salted turnips), anchovies I sat at the dinner table enjoying the range of flavors bursting in my mouth...from salty to tart to sweet to spicy!
We spent a day seeing the environment Bubba grew up in. He took us to the house that he was raised in after his father died. About an acre away into the fields is the Great Miami River. Bubba said that all the neighborhood kids spent their days afterschool fishing, climbing trees and running around. Bubba's childhood reminds me of the movie Bridge to Terrabithia. We also visited Bubba's dad's grave. Bubba's dad succumbed to complications resulting from exposure to agent orange during his tour in Vietnam. He was 41...Bubba says he has already outlived his father by two years. The lying tombstone was small and plain...noting his name, his tours, his medals and date, nothing more. There was no special, personal quote, nothing additional as it was paid for by the Army. "I guess that's all is needed," Bubba remarked.
We left Ohio yesterday and crossed into the Kentucky border. The temps are in the 90s with matching humidity. We stopped for the night in Elizabethtown and will finish our drive into Tennessee to make our special delivery, dropping Kat off back at her mom's and step-dad's. Kat turned 14-years old yesterday. She is not yet the 'typical' teenager. She is easy-going, thoughtful and helpful. She respects that her father and I have a budget and does not request designer items. She can sing, she can dance (she was a junior cheerleader), she is an athlete and she can pick up a variety of accents with ease from cockney English to Aussie to Indian accents. Its just a matter of time until she becomes worldly! She is already so charming!