Laughter and conversation comfortably crowd the air. Smells of mashed potatoes and corn, chicken, and pumpkin pie boldly waft through the room. Is that a hint of Micheal Buble's Christmas album I hear? Possibly . . .
A Thanksgiving dinner in an American home? No, you would be mistaken. This was my Korean apartment on Sunday, November 25. I hosted my first Thanksgiving dinner - in a country where Thanksgiving is in September and no pilgrims OR Native Americans were involved. That would happen to me. lol
The entire week before the dinner took place the anticipation and excitement built inside of me. On the morning of the dinner, the excitement and anticipation exploded out of me in the form of stress. I was quite a worried woman. I was afraid that things wouldn't turn out well, the food would taste horrible, I wouldn't have things ready in time. Silly me. Why do I always do this to myself? I worry, worry, stress, worry, worry, and worry some more? When will I truly learn that even if things aren't perfect, it's not the end of the world? Life still goes on. People will still eat. Conversation and laughter will still happen. I shake my head at myself sometimes.
The dinner was a huge success (apart from me being extremely tired, having to do all the dishes, and that the next day was Monday which meant a full day of work)! I definitely wouldn't have been able to pull it off without the help of a couple friends who came into the kitchen about 20 minutes early and told me to chill out. This was a necessary gathering for me I realize. As I sat, eating the delectable food on my plate, listening to and joining into the conversation and laughter in my humble abode, I felt so full of love and happiness (as well as food) that I thought I might burst out into song and make the dinner a musical or something. Okay, maybe not quite that extreme, but it was amazing to feel like I had friends and family with me. It feels like I'm really beginning to find my place in this world separate from anything I've ever known. This is not so much life as I don't know it anymore. Yes, there is definitely still a lot I don't know about living here. Yes, I have much to learn - I'm an almost empty vessel waiting to be filled. But I feel like this is beginning to be less like life as I don't know it and more like life as I know it. Hmmm, I kind of like that. As the awesome character of Stitch might say, "It's good . . . yeah, it's good."
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Friday, November 23, 2012
Yes, This Is a Post About Being Thankful . . .
As I quietly sit alone in my kitchen on this Thanksgiving evening after a long day of teaching, eating a tortilla with melted cheese and a bit of salsa, I realize that I have so much for which to be thankful.
Now, I promise I won't make this long but I really just feel the need to write about what gives me reason to be thankful this year.
This year has been one filled with change and adventure. Of course, life is always an adventure, but mine became more of one after I signed a contract agreeing to spend the next year of my life teaching in South Korea. I am so thankful I had the opportunity to skip across the ocean and spend the first year of my non-school life teaching English in a foreign country. I am thankful for both the good and bad experiences that have accompanied this journey. I have learned more about my weaknesses and my strengths and how to use them to my advantage. So far, the opportunities to strengthen my faith as well as my character have been endless.
I am thankful for my family. My parents were, of course, very reluctant to let their daughter fly halfway across the world and live there for a year . . . alone. But after I decided this was what I needed to do after graduation, they were there with 110% support. You are and always will be the amazing people I turn to when life gives me both trouble and joy. Angela, my dear sister, continuously told me to stay home and not go. She was always reminding me of how much she would miss me. As we embraced one last time before leaving her in Lincoln, she even told me that she already missed me. We've always seemed to have our differences (to say the least. lol) growing up, but her hug was filled with enough love to get me through a year apart from her. All of my other relatives - I love seeing your comments on my blog and I love knowing that you all support me and love me so much. I don't know how I got so lucky to be stuck with such an awesome family but somehow it happened and the rest of you should be jealous of all of the amazingness to which I'm related.
I am thankful for my friends. Wow, I don't know how some people make it through life without friends! Being here, I've realized just how important friends are to me. When you don't know anyone and have no one to talk to, trust, rely upon, or hang out with, life can seem a bit more challenging and a bit less enjoyable. So if you're reading this and we're friends, or ever become friends, please know that I appreciate you and our relationship beyond words. Without my friends' support, love, and encouragement throughout my life, and especially since I've been here, I wouldn't be the same person I am today. Thank you for helping to shape, and to continue to shape, me through experiences, talks, and laughter.
There's so much more but I promised this would be short so I'll wrap it up here. I guess I can basically say that I'm thankful for every day I have the privilege of living and every new morning I get to experience. I know that might sound cliche or like a cop out, but really, truly, honestly, that's what I'm thankful for - each day and whatever might come with it.
Now, I promise I won't make this long but I really just feel the need to write about what gives me reason to be thankful this year.
This year has been one filled with change and adventure. Of course, life is always an adventure, but mine became more of one after I signed a contract agreeing to spend the next year of my life teaching in South Korea. I am so thankful I had the opportunity to skip across the ocean and spend the first year of my non-school life teaching English in a foreign country. I am thankful for both the good and bad experiences that have accompanied this journey. I have learned more about my weaknesses and my strengths and how to use them to my advantage. So far, the opportunities to strengthen my faith as well as my character have been endless.
I am thankful for my family. My parents were, of course, very reluctant to let their daughter fly halfway across the world and live there for a year . . . alone. But after I decided this was what I needed to do after graduation, they were there with 110% support. You are and always will be the amazing people I turn to when life gives me both trouble and joy. Angela, my dear sister, continuously told me to stay home and not go. She was always reminding me of how much she would miss me. As we embraced one last time before leaving her in Lincoln, she even told me that she already missed me. We've always seemed to have our differences (to say the least. lol) growing up, but her hug was filled with enough love to get me through a year apart from her. All of my other relatives - I love seeing your comments on my blog and I love knowing that you all support me and love me so much. I don't know how I got so lucky to be stuck with such an awesome family but somehow it happened and the rest of you should be jealous of all of the amazingness to which I'm related.
I am thankful for my friends. Wow, I don't know how some people make it through life without friends! Being here, I've realized just how important friends are to me. When you don't know anyone and have no one to talk to, trust, rely upon, or hang out with, life can seem a bit more challenging and a bit less enjoyable. So if you're reading this and we're friends, or ever become friends, please know that I appreciate you and our relationship beyond words. Without my friends' support, love, and encouragement throughout my life, and especially since I've been here, I wouldn't be the same person I am today. Thank you for helping to shape, and to continue to shape, me through experiences, talks, and laughter.
There's so much more but I promised this would be short so I'll wrap it up here. I guess I can basically say that I'm thankful for every day I have the privilege of living and every new morning I get to experience. I know that might sound cliche or like a cop out, but really, truly, honestly, that's what I'm thankful for - each day and whatever might come with it.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Delicious Fellowship
Friday evening. I think this is one of my favorite, if not the most favorite, day of the week. Life seems to decelerate a bit when that sun starts to set. Being in Korea has made me miss my Friday nights back in the U.S. Some good music, a clean house, no obligations or responsibilities, a good book, vespers, and the often late-into-the-night discussions with good friends. And yes Kelly, I dearly miss our Friday afternoon Ugly Betty marathons. :)
A Friday evening here consists of coming back from the market, cleaning house, having a bit of supper, and then heading to the chapel to put on the vespers program and lead out in conversation time for the few students who decided to attend that night. There is not a real atmosphere of warm fellowship. Deep spiritual and life discussions are far and few between. It's up to you to make your Friday evening special.
Tonight however, was the most pleasant Friday evening I have had in a while. Earlier in the week, I invited to dinner one of the Korean teachers, Jenny, who is also my neighbor. We also invited one of the foreign teachers, Ray. I spent the afternoon (and actually the entire week) getting my apartment ready. I wanted it to be perfect. Scrubbing and mopping the floors, which was about 3 hours worth of work down on my hands and knees on a Sunday afternoon; making artwork and fancying up pictures to make my walls look more attractive and less naked (because no one likes a naked wall); changing out my old beat-up tablecloth for a new one about 20 minutes before dinner (it may or may not have been a large curtain that had been wasting its days away inside my closet); chopping, rising, washing, drying, sauteing, baking, setting - yeah, all that good stuff that goes along with make an entire meal that you want to be the greatest thing your guests' taste-buds have ever experienced. As a short side-note, cooking here has been slightly different than back home. I never realized how readily available (and how much cheaper) items were, things I never thought I would miss and may have taken for granted - cheese, tortillas, salsa, good pasta sauce, Earth Balance (which is nowhere to be found unfortunately, even in the international marketplace in Itaewon). Also, I've been learning how to cook and bake with the few pans I have. No glass baking dishes, no pie tins, no 9x13 pan for me - Koreans aren't really into much baking and continuously are shocked when they find out that I actually have, and use, an oven. Ok, so let's get back on track here.
I did everything to get ready. I was so ecstatic (but only on the inside, of course) to be hosting my first dinner in my apartment. I was proud of the way my place was beginning to look and how clean it was. I was hoping and praying that dinner turned out well (I still have issues with converting Fahrenheit to Celsius at times - and my oven uses Celsius. lol)! I was worrying that I would not be ready in time. But, when 5:30 rolled around - dinner was fresh out of the oven, rice cooker, and fridge; the house was clean; and the awesome David Lanz Pandora Radio station was keeping my ears company. Dinner went off without a hitch. And without even realizing it, the warm intimate fellowship was just what I had been needing. As the conversation and laughter carried on through the evening, a strange and foreign feeling slowly began to move from the sounds and smells and seep under my skin. Familiarity. What an amazing and forgotten feeling! This has been a breakthrough moment in the Korean life of the American Ashley Schebo. I think it means I'm going to do just fine.
A Friday evening here consists of coming back from the market, cleaning house, having a bit of supper, and then heading to the chapel to put on the vespers program and lead out in conversation time for the few students who decided to attend that night. There is not a real atmosphere of warm fellowship. Deep spiritual and life discussions are far and few between. It's up to you to make your Friday evening special.
Tonight however, was the most pleasant Friday evening I have had in a while. Earlier in the week, I invited to dinner one of the Korean teachers, Jenny, who is also my neighbor. We also invited one of the foreign teachers, Ray. I spent the afternoon (and actually the entire week) getting my apartment ready. I wanted it to be perfect. Scrubbing and mopping the floors, which was about 3 hours worth of work down on my hands and knees on a Sunday afternoon; making artwork and fancying up pictures to make my walls look more attractive and less naked (because no one likes a naked wall); changing out my old beat-up tablecloth for a new one about 20 minutes before dinner (it may or may not have been a large curtain that had been wasting its days away inside my closet); chopping, rising, washing, drying, sauteing, baking, setting - yeah, all that good stuff that goes along with make an entire meal that you want to be the greatest thing your guests' taste-buds have ever experienced. As a short side-note, cooking here has been slightly different than back home. I never realized how readily available (and how much cheaper) items were, things I never thought I would miss and may have taken for granted - cheese, tortillas, salsa, good pasta sauce, Earth Balance (which is nowhere to be found unfortunately, even in the international marketplace in Itaewon). Also, I've been learning how to cook and bake with the few pans I have. No glass baking dishes, no pie tins, no 9x13 pan for me - Koreans aren't really into much baking and continuously are shocked when they find out that I actually have, and use, an oven. Ok, so let's get back on track here.
I did everything to get ready. I was so ecstatic (but only on the inside, of course) to be hosting my first dinner in my apartment. I was proud of the way my place was beginning to look and how clean it was. I was hoping and praying that dinner turned out well (I still have issues with converting Fahrenheit to Celsius at times - and my oven uses Celsius. lol)! I was worrying that I would not be ready in time. But, when 5:30 rolled around - dinner was fresh out of the oven, rice cooker, and fridge; the house was clean; and the awesome David Lanz Pandora Radio station was keeping my ears company. Dinner went off without a hitch. And without even realizing it, the warm intimate fellowship was just what I had been needing. As the conversation and laughter carried on through the evening, a strange and foreign feeling slowly began to move from the sounds and smells and seep under my skin. Familiarity. What an amazing and forgotten feeling! This has been a breakthrough moment in the Korean life of the American Ashley Schebo. I think it means I'm going to do just fine.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Two Months
Time.
It is merely a measurement. It is a unit by which we dictate how long something takes to accomplish, when we will meet someone, or whether or not we are late to an appointment. Time can be seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years. Time can also be wasted, stolen, given, or lost. Time is how we organize our lives, from what time we wake up in the morning to how long it takes us to get to work, from when we eat our meals to how long we will sit in class.
Time can also fly. The older I get, the more I realize that, for me, time began as indecipherable and unimportant numbers on a clock but somehow evolved into the Concorde, transporting me through life at supersonic speeds.
Two months. In the scheme of life, it's not really much at all. But much can happen in two months. At the beginning of these two months, I stepped from my aunt and uncle's car in Minneapolis and embraced familiarity for the last time. At the beginning of these two months, I was sitting in a Singapore Airlines window seat, watching the endless span of clouds and ocean float gently below me, oblivious to the change that was happening in my life. At the beginning of these two months, I was wondering what I had gotten myself into as I walked out of the terminal and could not understand one word the woman greeting arriving passengers was saying. At the beginning of these two months, I was sitting on the floor in my tiny new room - no sheets for my bed, two sets of bars on my window, and unfamiliarity seeping into my body by all five senses as each second ticked away. I was crying out to God asking why I had come to this place, informing Him that surely I'd misheard Him. I could easily pack up all my belongings and go home if that's what He wanted me to do.
The middle of these two months was full of trials, loneliness, sadness, and fear. But, it was even more full of happiness, laughter, smiles, life-changing experiences, strengthening (and testing) of faith and character, and a step closer to finding who the person that is me really is. Sound cliche? If so, too bad. I dislike cliche-sounding things, but the above words are the truth, so why write anything else? These two months were full of traveling, eating, trying new things, making new friends, and learning to be prepared to do anything, at any and all times (I may not be able to do the splits to the ground, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to be flexible).
The end of these first two months in South Korea finds me sitting at my kitchen table on a Saturday night, eating some Kashi I bought at Costco and typing out this post. I never saw myself at this point as the wheels of my jet lifted off that last bit of U.S. tarmac. Now that I'm here, I can't imagine life without these two months. Teaching English in Korea hasn't been all that I've expected it to be, but it's also been more than I expected it to be. Sure I've had problems. Sure I've felt like giving up, skipping town (or country), heading back, flying away. Sure I've been surrounded, and at times, overwhelmed by unfamiliarity. But who hasn't? Who in their life has never faced a new situation, something foreign and unfamiliar to them, something that no experience in their life up to that point could have prepared them for? If not for challenges, how would we grow? How would we become the people we are supposed to be? Stagnation is for those fearful of the possibility of failure. I know - I used to be there. At one point in my life, I embraced stagnation, found peace and stability in it. It was the known that kept my life calm. The known kept me on top, away from that sneering creature of failure. But I've begun to realize that change should become my more constant companion, even though it is accompanied by many unknowns. If we fear the unknown, we will never know if it truly is to fear because it remains unknown. Don't get me wrong, I still get nervous when I'm faced with unknown situations. Instead of always running from them now though, I've begun to face them. I have found that life becomes more interesting, as do I. I challenge (there's that word again. lol) you to face an unknown today. Start out small and as the unknowns grow, so will you. Life is what you make of it, so dare yourself to make it an adventure.
It is merely a measurement. It is a unit by which we dictate how long something takes to accomplish, when we will meet someone, or whether or not we are late to an appointment. Time can be seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years. Time can also be wasted, stolen, given, or lost. Time is how we organize our lives, from what time we wake up in the morning to how long it takes us to get to work, from when we eat our meals to how long we will sit in class.
Time can also fly. The older I get, the more I realize that, for me, time began as indecipherable and unimportant numbers on a clock but somehow evolved into the Concorde, transporting me through life at supersonic speeds.
Two months. In the scheme of life, it's not really much at all. But much can happen in two months. At the beginning of these two months, I stepped from my aunt and uncle's car in Minneapolis and embraced familiarity for the last time. At the beginning of these two months, I was sitting in a Singapore Airlines window seat, watching the endless span of clouds and ocean float gently below me, oblivious to the change that was happening in my life. At the beginning of these two months, I was wondering what I had gotten myself into as I walked out of the terminal and could not understand one word the woman greeting arriving passengers was saying. At the beginning of these two months, I was sitting on the floor in my tiny new room - no sheets for my bed, two sets of bars on my window, and unfamiliarity seeping into my body by all five senses as each second ticked away. I was crying out to God asking why I had come to this place, informing Him that surely I'd misheard Him. I could easily pack up all my belongings and go home if that's what He wanted me to do.
The middle of these two months was full of trials, loneliness, sadness, and fear. But, it was even more full of happiness, laughter, smiles, life-changing experiences, strengthening (and testing) of faith and character, and a step closer to finding who the person that is me really is. Sound cliche? If so, too bad. I dislike cliche-sounding things, but the above words are the truth, so why write anything else? These two months were full of traveling, eating, trying new things, making new friends, and learning to be prepared to do anything, at any and all times (I may not be able to do the splits to the ground, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to be flexible).
The end of these first two months in South Korea finds me sitting at my kitchen table on a Saturday night, eating some Kashi I bought at Costco and typing out this post. I never saw myself at this point as the wheels of my jet lifted off that last bit of U.S. tarmac. Now that I'm here, I can't imagine life without these two months. Teaching English in Korea hasn't been all that I've expected it to be, but it's also been more than I expected it to be. Sure I've had problems. Sure I've felt like giving up, skipping town (or country), heading back, flying away. Sure I've been surrounded, and at times, overwhelmed by unfamiliarity. But who hasn't? Who in their life has never faced a new situation, something foreign and unfamiliar to them, something that no experience in their life up to that point could have prepared them for? If not for challenges, how would we grow? How would we become the people we are supposed to be? Stagnation is for those fearful of the possibility of failure. I know - I used to be there. At one point in my life, I embraced stagnation, found peace and stability in it. It was the known that kept my life calm. The known kept me on top, away from that sneering creature of failure. But I've begun to realize that change should become my more constant companion, even though it is accompanied by many unknowns. If we fear the unknown, we will never know if it truly is to fear because it remains unknown. Don't get me wrong, I still get nervous when I'm faced with unknown situations. Instead of always running from them now though, I've begun to face them. I have found that life becomes more interesting, as do I. I challenge (there's that word again. lol) you to face an unknown today. Start out small and as the unknowns grow, so will you. Life is what you make of it, so dare yourself to make it an adventure.
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