A Full-time Part-timer

When we agreed to move to Cambodia, it was with the understanding that Bradley would do his best to secure a part-time position as a teacher, while reserving part of his time to use for church work. After having worked an average of 60 hours a week as an orchestra director, and lending his support to sharing the gospel with others whenever possible, this arrangement sounded like it would be less challenging for our household. In some ways it was less challenging, as it did allow us more time together, but although enjoyable, it was strange to have Bradley home several days a week, especially with my being home full-time. As I had worked full-time our entire marriage, it was odd to suddenly have us available to one another so often. However, his availability was so random, that it was sometimes more difficult than we had anticipated.

Not long after settling into our flat, Bradley was blessed with a job as a music teacher at a prominent school in Phnom Penh, and we were so thankful for the opportunity. The upside was that his work hours would allow a decent amount of freedom for bible studies, travel, and other church needs. The downside was that a routine would be tough to grasp. The school worked on a 6-day rotation with a 5-day work week, and each of the 6 days had a varied schedule. This meant that not only was every work week unlike another, but for 3 of his 4 semesters, his class times fluctuated, depending on the day. For some people this situation might have been a breeze, but not so for us. It is completely in my nature to yearn for and function well within a weekly routine, and Bradley does best with a daily routine. Well, each semester and summer we were abroad, presented us with a new schedule, which meant that neither of us were going to get what we wanted. We had to work hard to face our minor dilemma, and unfortunately we did not always succeed.

Another challenge was that of Bradley's nature. I am so very privileged to have an amazing, hard-working husband who not only wants to work to provide for our home, but who desires to give his all to his employer. Unfortunately, this was the first time since college that he was faced with having more than one boss. Granted, the Almighty was less demanding on him having a set schedule than his principle, but he did not take any of tasks lightly. So often he found himself stressed, trying to fulfill his obligations to both jobs, but often coming up short in comparison with his full-time co-workers. As his wife, it was taxing to watch him go from one day struggling with too much time on his hands, due to a cancelled bible study or meeting, but then wishing he had more time the following day when class, a study, an unplanned meeting, and an after-school program all required his attention. He always managed to take care of business, but I know it was not without a great deal of effort. His example is one that both humbles and inspires me.

I had the honor of attending classes with him a few times during our stay over seas, and, well, I may have taken a few pictures...

Oh the lovely drive to work.

Getting his moto tagged by security.

This picture does not do the building justice.

I was always struck by the western interior of the

school. It made sense, being British, but it was still

strange to walk out of smelly, sweaty, impoverished

Cambodia into a chilly, clean, decorated environment. 

One of my favorite things about Northbridge was

how they made an effort to display their students' art.

A model of the finished site and buildings.

Back into the humidity as we head to the classroom.

Aww, aircon and fans... and instruments!

I love seeing him in one of his elements.

This is one of the many events with which Bradley assisted.

Again, I love the encouragement of the arts!

Another event that involved surrounding countries!

Bradley's group practicing for their performance.

That's a lot of teenagers...

So, we find ourselves back home, and yet Bradley is in a similar boat with being part-time on an irregular schedule. This time though, I do believe we are more prepared. Thanks to our time in Cambodia, we have learned a little more about ourselves, our limitations, and how to be most productive, regardless of our circumstance. Bradley is working nearly full-time at Method Coffee in Dallas (stop by - he'd love to see you), and will also begin teaching private bass and cello lessons for students next week. Since we will be moving again in another 1-2 months, I am waiting until we know where we are going to live before I seek employment. Until then, I am finding the happy, peaceful moments during this stage of transition, and growing in my admiration for my husband and best friend as he continues this stage of life as a full-time part-timer. Cheers!

Changing shapes

We have been in the states for two months now, and it finally felt real just a few weeks ago. I recall Marissa commenting early on in our stay in Cambodia that she was more worried about the reverse culture shock than the move to the Kingdom of Wonder. Although my brain could not wrap around that concern at that moment, I did log the thought away for later.

Well, later has come. The most popular question I have been asked is, "Have you guys settled in yet?" Most people are asking to make casual conversation, but some people are wanting details. I had been struggling to find the right words to best convey how we are feeling, but how do you explain something that you yourself do not fully understand? Finally, in playing with my nephew, a certain toy gave me my explanation. This toy has a hole in which you push a ball through to send it down a little series of ramps. At one point, he tried to push something down the hole that was not circular in shape. This was my answer. There is a comfortable, familiar hole in which we had made our lives before moving, and so in coming back to the states, we have a level of comfort and familiarity. However, we are no longer a circle. We no longer fit in that hole the way we once did before. Some may think this is sad, strange, or silly, but it is the best way I can share what we feel right now. We feel at home, but home has a different definition to us. Even in familiar places and spaces we just feel... different.

I recall moving from Alaska to Texas at the age of eleven, and the change in sub-cultures was difficult, but not overwhelming. Fashions, housing, and lifestyles were slightly different, but there was still a common thread of culture that ran through the two states. I have a feeling that if I were to relocate back to Alaska, that it would require another adjustment in my fashions, housing, and daily lifestyle. However, I daresay the change would not feel so much like a submersion as this relocation does, and some days I feel accomplished when I simply keep my head above water. Simple things seem taxing. Some things, I would have never guessed. For example...

Visiting with people.
During our two years, I spent roughly half of my time alone. Being a homebody and introvert, I adjusted better than I am sure some would, but I had not realized how accustomed to the solitude I had become, until returning home. Sometimes I feel like a goldfish that has been dumped out of its bowl into a large aquarium filled with thousands of creatures. The difference is that I originally came from this aquarium, but after having been in my bowl for so long, it often feels like I am swimming forever before I can find a quiet place that is not already inhabited. On the flip side, I am thrilled to have so many fish, new and old in their familiarity, with which to swim. I have had moments where it feels like I have forgotten how to converse (sorry if you have been one of these conversation casualties). Going to the store in Cambodia, I always had people surrounding me, whether staring, laughing, or trying to serve me, but the majority of them could not speak to me. Or rather, they spoke to me, but my understanding was limited, and usually by the time I was able to interpret what they had said, they had either become bored with me, or decided that I was a poor student of the language - maybe they were onto something. So, very little of my interaction was verbal. Even at our get togethers, conversation was minimal. With a limited vocabulary - which even then the meaning was not always clear - Vanny was sometimes my only link to talking with someone, and I did my best to not hog him since he was doing his best to visit and converse as well. Since Jonathan, Marissa, and Bradley were more proficient with the language, I usually spent my time playing with the kids, cleaning, or "helping" in the kitchen. After two years of not practicing my conversational skills, I am a little rusty, but every week I feel a little more confident. Who knew that a talkative girl would one day be gun shy with conversation? Of course there have been a few occasions where I have over-conversed my companion  - again, sorry if you have been one of those casualties. Although not as easily remembered as riding a bicycle, I am beginning to remember the art of conversation.

Being surrounded by my own language.
Wait, what? Yep. For two years most everywhere I went gave me the option to go wandering through my "mind palace," since the majority of the people around me were speaking a foreign language. I have found it mentally exhausting to hear my native tongue being spoken around me in several groups of people. Trying to decide whether to process or ignore the conversations is something I never imagined would be a struggle. It is not like I am brought to frustration and tears with this struggle, but it has worn me out on several occasions. I know that eventually my brain will adapt, and in the mean time I will allow myself to get a little extra sleep.

Living with technology AND people.
Okay, this one is funny and annoying. Although social media has its perks, having been a border-line recluse, a constant connection to people through technology and in person just sounds exhausting. Oh, the irony that Facebook was such a blessing to have during my "home-sick blues," but now has become something that I have to check after enough people have asked if I received their private message. I totally get that for some it is the perfect solution to keeping in touch with loved ones, as it was that for me at one point. However, it is now a chore, but part of that feeling is due to the now endless connection I have with people. Now we can call, text, and see people, and the idea of having so many people I want to see, is daunting. How did I do this before with a full-time job, part-time job, and household duties? For now, I have an emergency phone that costs for every call and text. Maybe at some point our budget and my semi-social self will be able to handle being more connected, but for now I am going to try to be patient with myself as I strive to reconnect with friends and family via technology and face to face.

Thankfully I am not dealing with any huge hurdles as we readjust to our life in America, but enough little things can be tiresome. There are many days when I feel unproductive, regardless of how productive I was because I feel so weird. Right now our time is being dedicated to fixing up our home to rent again, sorting through a seemingly endless amount of stuff, settling into Timothy and Krista's home without driving them crazy, and reconnecting with every one we love. Speaking, here are some reconnection moments...

Painting and beautifying the house with Bracie.

(Many thanks to Bracie, Timo, and Brian for their help!!!)

My nephew, Shepherd, reading to his baby Bear.

Listening for airplanes with Uncle Bradley.

Snuggling with some of my favorite people.

Castle building at the library with my boys.

They have grown so big. *bittersweet sniff, sniff*

We plan to live with Bradley's brother through December of this year, and our hope is to build a tiny house or small living space, depending on what property situation we find for the business we plan to open in just over a year. We have a lot on our plate, but we also have a lot on our side. Our heavenly Father has been beyond gracious in blessing us directly and through His people. Our prayer is that it will be His hand that continues to mold and transform us as we continue changing shapes. Cheers!

Cambodiastes (Cambodia + Ecclesiastes)

As we wrapped up our lives in Phnom Penh, so many thoughts, emotions, and memories flooded over me. As Bradley has said many times, we went to teach others, but we feel as though we have learned more than we have taught. Although my wisdom is still lacking, I would like to share what I have gained from 2 years in the foreign land of Cambodia...

1. Dirt is a great teacher. I can live with dirt on my floors. It will not kill me. Patience is feeling the grit crunch under my clean feet, after nearly an hour of sweeping, and turning the moment into an opportunity to gain patience and smile, thankful I still have feeling in my feet.

2. Being monolingual does not signify a lack of intelligence. I am ashamed to admit that I tend to assume someone who does not speak my language is less intelligent than me, and I am not the only one. After having people treat me like a helpless imbecile, simply because I do not understand a different language, has heightened my awareness of how I view others. It has also upped my respect for those who do make the effort to learn a new language. Although I have never disrespected or acted unkindly toward anyone who does not speak English, I now make a conscious effort to reach out to any one who makes the slightest effort to step outside of their language comfort box.

3. Mission work does not have to be miserable. Even though I was able to survive without a refrigerator, mattress, and washer for a short while, with every purchase, I felt the burden lighten. The ease, rest, and peace these items gave me, along with some advice from older missionaries, has made me realize that it is okay to be comfortable. We did without where we had to, and we grew in gratitude when we did not have to sacrifice comfort.

4. Temporary can still be meaningful. As a child, I moved around often, attending 5 different school districts before high school. It was always a struggle to be the new kid, but it taught me the value of reaching out and meeting new people. Just because time together will most likely be short-term in person, does not mean a new friendship will be any less significant in my life. Cambodia has solidified this for me. I am a better person, for the long haul, because of the people who temporarily participated in my day-to-day life in the Kingdom of Wonder. Even a one-time meeting can be life enhancing if I choose for it be so. Every person is a creation of God, and I savor every moment I have to connect with a piece of my Father.

5. Planning is essential and futile. The Almighty has been teaching me this lesson for a while, but I think it has finally rooted... I think. In high school, I recall answering the question: Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 20 years? Well, aside from college and marriage, I am not sure if I have fulfilled those goals. The main reason: my control is limited. Every goal and dream of mine has always included children, but I have no control over my infertility. There are things I have done that I never planned on doing, and there are things that I planned that I may never be able to do. In going to Cambodia, we each had a plan, but our control was limited because we are human. As I believe it is all about the balance of being both a responsible steward of the time and resources God has given me, as well as a yielding servant, ready to fulfill His will, not mine, I will continue to make plans. But I will do my best to grow in flexibility and patience as He carries out His plan, regardless of mine.

6. The 'Rat Race' is for rats. Bradley and I have grown to love the slower pace of life, as it allows us to actually live, not just survive. We have seen the benefit in how much more productive we can be when we are happy. We have to work to find the balance between work and play, but if our pitcher is empty, then we are unable to fill others' cups.

7. A smile can go a long way. With a language barrier, in a culture that is not very big on displays of physical affection, a smile and pat on the arm became my way of connecting and communicating. I always pray that my love and sincerity will show in my eyes and smile, which gives me a greater chance of kicking a bad attitude so it is less likely to cloud my light.

8. America may not be the promised land, but it holds a lot of promise. Sure, there are plenty of things I would try to do differently if I were involved with politics, but after having lived in a land where corruption is literally part of the government system, I have come to value the freedom and liberty we have in America. The reason we have time to bicker and argue over such detailed rights and laws is because we are not having to fight to overcome genocide. There are countries that have no government assistance for the handicap, poor, and mentally impaired. There are countries with children whose parents make them beg in the streets since school is not affordable or required by the government. There are countries where there are separate laws for the rich and poor... literally, the law only applies to people who cannot afford to pay for it, and it is public knowledge, not an occasional under-handed scheme. We had numerous mothers offer us their children since it meant them going to America for a better life. As an American, I may be embarrassed to be associated with certain political figures, but I am extremely grateful to have been born in a free nation.

9. Different is not wrong. The houses, transportation, driving laws, fashion, food, etiquette... there are so many differences to be found between cultures. At first it was strange to witness so many men openly hanging on and lounging with other men, and women holding hands as they walked down the street. However, Bradley and I were the ones that merited stares whenever we held hands or kissed in public. Because, in the Khmer culture, public touching is to be non-romantic and non-sexual. So, if you are touching someone, then it should be in a non-romantic way. That seems weird and backwards to our culture where touching between adults in public is usually romantic, but it is just different. Honestly, I grew so accustomed to how the men act, that it threw me off when Byron commented on it during his visit in April. Something that had been weird to me was now normal. As a Christian, I do believe in God's standard of right and wrong, but I have learned that if it is not in the good book, then it is just a suggestion, not a rule.

10. Life is about people. Life is not about schedules and events. Sometimes people need you to wait, and that is okay. Because in reality, time does not exist, but souls do. I am expecting this lesson to be the most difficult to bring back to America, as the American culture coined the phrase, "time is money," and our culture tends to put productivity and money above people. Thankfully, I have the best example of putting people above anything and everything at Calvary.

Obviously, my time in Cambodia has taught me so much more than what I have listed here, as well as some things I probably have yet to learn. I am incredibly grateful for having had this experience, and I would not change it for anything. Here's to new experiences and old comforts. Cheers!

Before & After: Living Space & Kitchen

As I sit here, surrounded by suitcases and lots of stuff, I am happy to think of only a few weeks ago when my home was in order... when my home was my home. It is slowly but surely becoming another place in which we lived one time. So, before we no longer live here, I thought it a good idea to share our final before & after photos.

Every one deals with transition differently. For some transition is less upsetting than the actual change itself. For me, the transition does a number on this restless mind, but then once the change comes, peace returns. I remember stressing to no end about my wedding day, until the day actually arrived. My maid of honor was staring at me funny when we were getting our nails done, and I asked her what was the matter. She said she was concerned about how calm I had become. I laughed and stated, "The day has arrived. If something is not done, it most likely won't be finished. So, why stress about it? As long as Bradley and I are married at the end of the day, it will have been a successful day." She still watched me with an unsure eye, but I believed what I had said. And I still do. There is a point you reach during transition where you cannot go back. Time will not stop for you to finish, undo, or redo something. So, my mind can handle the actual presence of change better than this lack-of-routine-because-any-routine-is-out-the-door-since-everything-is-about-to-change state of being. I want to just have everything sold, gifted, and packed in 1-2 days. There's that "I want to be in control" monster rearing its ugly head again. Instead, I will choose to remember that God is in control, and I can only do my best. The rest is in His hands. In the meantime, I am choosing to take a break and virtually walk through our home before our possessions exploded all over the place.

As in my previous 'before & after' posts, I approached our living space with a desire for peace with a cup of comfort, and a dash of fun.

BEFORE

Empty, dingy, peach, and ready to be revived.

Orange doors and a nook... ideas begin to formulate...

Great medallions, but I was not crazy about the lighting.

AFTER

*sigh* B built a sofa frame from up cycled pallets, and
Marissa lent her sewing machine and seamstress skills to
help me make the cushion and pillow covers.

Come on in and sit down...

Whenever we have company, the casters allow us
to use the sofas as extra seating.

I am so thankful we chose to paint the walls in this soft grey.
B also built the shelf and table. I heart him!

In everything we have done to our flat, we had to weigh out what was worth the cost and effort. Since our stay was temporary, some things were not worth our time, even though we would have loved the improvement to the space. So, we upgraded what we could without busting either our butts or budget.

Now, we come to the kitchen. I would not be surprised if most American women would choose either their closet or their kitchen to be the largest room. ;o) Well, when we chose this flat, we immediately knew that a large kitchen was not in our near future. I knew that with my creative skills and Bradley's crafting skills, that we could create a decent kitchenette anywhere we chose. So, a small kitchen that was separated from the main living area was not too daunting for us. However, after having lived with the pain of running back and forth between kitchen and kitchenette, I do feel differently about our choice. We were able to create a great space, but I would have either invested in a sink option of sorts for the kitchenette, or I would have configured the kitchen space very differently to allow for more storage. Since heavy rain floods the kitchen, I probably would have chosen the first option, but we will never know. Now, onto our kitchen transformation.

BEFORE

The kitchen is located right outside the front door.
Bradley is entering. What will he find?

A beehive! Thankfully it is vacant.

Before the beehive-ectomy. 

Before the tin roof was added... small room for sure.

Storage? Storage! Is that really enough storage?

AFTER

The kitchen is my washing station.
No food prep, but some food storage.

For some reason we did not add this fan until we returned
home from the states. I used to be dripping in sweat by the
time I finished the dishes due to no air circulation. Man,
sometimes I am dumb... but now I am cool. Get it?

My cleaning supplies and my WASHER!!!!

When we first arrived, I decided to pioneer the laundry and do all of it by hand. Well, that lasted about 4 months, and then the Edwards purchased a washing machine. They were generous enough to let me use it whenever I came to watch the kiddos, and it allowed me to only do 2-4 loads of laundry by hand per month instead of per week. Once they moved across town, we would take our laundry on Sundays, but it was a hassle to haul everything back and forth. Plus, we really felt like laundry bums, even though Jonathan and Marissa never demonstrated anything but generosity toward us. I really wanted a washer of my own, and we had even saved up enough money to purchase one. However, the problem was where to put the machine since our flat was not really set up for the beast. The drain line was the main issue since it has to lie flat and its length is restricted to avoid issues. So, placing the washer inside was not an option, but then, of course, there's the weather to consider. During the dry season, a washer outside would undoubtedly suffer from the dust and grit that would cling to it within minutes, happily building decaying layers in days. Then, during the rainy season, how would one keep an outside washer dry?

Well, while visiting a friend's apartment, I noticed that her washer was outside on her balcony, with a plastic, rain-proof cover. LIGHT BULB! Why had I not thought of using a heavy duty rain poncho? There was still the issue of the drain line though, but Bradley and I put our heads together to solve another problem. So, I have been happily washing laundry in my own washing machine, in my own home for nearly 9 months now! It has been wonderful, and every time I wheel out the washer to hook it up for use, I take a moment to thank my Heavenly Father for such a simple yet huge blessing. I hope I never take having a washing machine for granted again.

Since the kitchen is a cleaning and storage station, we needed a place for cooking and food preparation. Bradley used his skills to craft yet another beautiful area for just this task. This is our buffet, and aside from not having a sink, it works perfectly for our needs. The higher counter top prevents back strain (since the Khmer people tend to be shorter, and often prepare their food on the floor, the counter tops here are usually very short), and the metal cabinet keeps our dishes dust free while housing the burners on top. Although I would have preferred a different style of cabinet, the piece has served us well.

AFTER

(The before is above since it is one big room.)

This custom-built shelf plays the role of an open pantry.

Again the grated windows come in handy > hanging pots.

Bradley made this shelf for his coffee... I get to use it too. ;o)

Although a part of me is saddened to be tearing down this little home we have built, I am so thankful that we had the blessing of living here, even if temporarily. Living abroad has truly taught us that home is where the heart is, and our heart is with our Lord and with each other. So, wherever we go, no matter how many before and afters we undertake, we will always be home. Cheers!

Do you handle the transition stage or the actual change better?
Which room in your home is the most important to you?
(Special thanks to my FB friends who try to respond and/or answer every time!)

A-N-X-I-E-T-Y

In case you have not heard, we are moving. Across the world. Again.

But you say, "Brandi, there is no need to worry because you are coming home. America is your home, remember?" Then I say, "Umm, are you sure? I feel pretty 'at home' here... in Cambodia because, you know, I live here. My home is here. My life is here. Right?" Then you retort, "but Brandi your family and friends are waiting for you. Are you not excited to be with and around them again?" Of course I reply, "YES! I am so ready to love on my littles, chat and laugh with my girlfriends, and make more memories with family. But for 2 years I have lived a completely different life in a completely different country. I am not the same person I was when I left America. How do I deal with this?" Your patient response, "You let us welcome you home. You worry about getting here, and we will take care of the rest. Sound good?" Nervously, I smile, not wanting to seem ungrateful, "Well, yes, that does sound good, but it seems more easily said than done. I mean, I have so much to sell and pack; friends I have no desire to leave; people depending on me; and I somehow have to keep my sanity as I say goodbye again. Do you understand?" Kindly you comfort me, "Oh Brandi, you are stronger than you think. Just remember to lean on God and He will get you through. Plus, on the other side of all of your goodbyes will be a bunch of hello agains. Your friends and family love you and are anxiously waiting to have you back."

There's that word: anxious. Yep. Been feeling that recently. In less than 8 weeks my life will drastically change again, and my little self is struggling with so many thoughts, emotions, and tasks. I would imagine that to anyone who has never lived outside of their home country, this may seem silly. Coming home seems like the most natural thing to do, but humor me for a moment. For those who have moved out and away from home, whether married or single, think of how different 'home' is once you have your own home. If you are blessed with a happy and healthy family, then your parent's and/or grandparent's home is still a comfortable, wonderful place to visit, but there is a reason for the phrase, "you can't go home again". You have rituals, habits, routines, styles, and items in your home that are simply you. No one may be able to make cookies like mom, but no one has a better, safer, more comfortable bed than you do, in your own home. Now, for those who have never moved back home to mom and dad, imagine doing so. I am sure any one can think of a few things that might go wrong, even if nothing done is, in itself, wrong. But since every circumstance in life changes us as individuals, although your core personality may always be there, we can become very different people over the passage of time. I am a very different person, but I am still me. I am nervous to come home to a country, a congregation, a family, and a life that is very different from whenever I left two years ago. Anxiety has crept in, and I must find a way to deal with it all. Scripture has been my heart's greatest comfort, and writing is my brain's. So, ahem, I feel the need to let my inner diva pen my thoughts in lyric. Although I do not condone all of the words used in the original song, Glamorous is my inspiration. I found a clean karaoke version... you know... just in case someone would be interested in de-stressing through tunes. And yes, I had a blast singing this.

https://youtu.be/ZNCk-xcKW6Y

Oh, and we may have made an audio recording. To listen to the sounds of B-rad and Bran Muffin click below:

*Tuk tuks are the moto taxis they have in Cambodia. Although enjoyable, they are not the fastest mode of transportation. **Mangosteens are a delicious fruit that look like a cross between an eggplant and a pumpkin, and taste of juicy awesomeness!

Just give in and sing it Fergie style...
............................................
Are you ready?

Since you ain't in control, bring your broke self Home
Since you ain't in control, bring your broke self Home

A-N-X-I-E-T-wah-wah-Y, yeah A-N-X-I-E-T-wah-wah-Y

We're flyin' third class, up in the sky
Drinkin' ginger ale, livin' my life
In the tuk tuk lane, not ready for change*
Oh the anxiety, ooh, the fluster, fluster
The anxiety, anxie-anxiety, the anxiety,
Ooh the fluster, fluster
The anxiety, anxie-anxiety, the anxiety,
Ooh the fluster, fluster

Sort and sift through every thing
I'll be crowned the packin' queen
What if I forget something?
With all this dust how can I clean?
Chat with fam on the Skype scene
Gonna miss my mangosteen**
Sweatin' so much it's obscene
Coatin' on the sunscreen
Chillin' in the Edwards' canteen
Gabe's made a submarine
List-en-ing to Evie sing
Penny I'm not your trampoline
Bible studies, ready to glean
Dinner guests? I need caffeine.

Sippin', reminiscing on days when I had a routine, and now I'm

third class, up in the sky
Drinkin' ginger ale, livin' my life
In the tuk tuk lane, not ready for change
Oh the anxiety, ooh, the fluster, fluster
The anxiety, anxie-anxiety, the anxiety,
Ooh the fluster, fluster
The anxiety, anxie-anxiety, the anxiety,
Ooh the fluster, fluster

[skip bridge]

A-N-X-I-E-T-wah-wah-Y, yeah A-N-X-I-E-T-wah-wah-Y

We're flyin' third class, up in the sky
Drinkin' ginger ale, livin' my life
In the tuk tuk lane, not ready for change
Oh the anxiety, ooh, the fluster, fluster
The anxiety, anxie-anxiety, the anxiety,
Ooh the fluster, fluster
The anxiety, anxie-anxiety, the anxiety,
Ooh the fluster, fluster

I got plannin' up to here
Khmer music in my ear
Singin' all these crazy things that I don't understand
Blessed with money in the bank
And I'd really like to thank
There's so many I could thank
Thank you really though
Cause I've never had a day
When I'd worry about pay
Since the church takes care of us, all the Christian folk
Man, it's been a long road and now it's time to go
My Heavenly Father's in control,
He let this daughter know

Since you ain't in control, bring your broke self Home
My Father told me so
Since you ain't in control, bring your broke self Home
He let this daughter know
Since you ain't in control, bring your broke self Home
My Father told me so
Since you ain't in control, bring your broke self Home
He let this daughter know
............................................

If you have not yet figured out that I am quirky, you have now. I pray, sing, and vent to loved ones whenever I am faced with anxiety. How about you? Oh, and if you read my previous post on preferring writing to cooking, these lyrics took me less than an hour... dinner took over two. Oh the fluster, fluster! Okay, I'm out yo. Peace!

Betty Crockett Rides Again

Almost two years ago Bradley and I set out on the wild frontier, ready, we thought, for anything. Now, I have never fancied myself an amazing cook, and I willingly admit to being a poor baker. However, in the states I had practically mastered crockpot meals and boxed baked goods, when the need arose. Working full-time away from home, it had taken me several years to get into a groove that was both budget friendly and manageable for my schedule. Following our move here, I realized how well-oiled my cooking, grocery shopping machine had been. After moving out of the comfort of the hotel, not only did I struggle with meal planning, since the street markets do not always have the same produce available, but there were plenty of new and strange foods in place of the edible fare to which I had become accustomed to in the states. Although I had anticipated different cuisine in Cambodia, I was not prepared for the inconsistency of food availability, nor was I ready to take on eating Khmer food for every meal. Frustrated, I tried to figure out how to hit this curve ball that I had been thrown.

During our preparation for this mission work, Jonathan had kindly given us material to read that discussed the "do's" and "don'ts" of mission work. One section explained the problem of Going Native versus Cultural Isolation. It explored the tendency for missionaries to either try to infuse themselves into the culture to the point of denying their own identity, hence "going native." The other side is that of those who lock themselves away in their culture bubble in a way that never allows them to experience the culture and the people to whom they serve. Both of these tendencies have proven unsuccessful. With the first, one is ignoring the fact they are not, and never will be "one of them," and in trying to become one of them, one makes it that much more obvious that they are indeed different. The isolation factor is more visibly evident, as the person falling into this way of life is blatantly different, and will therefore never be accepted by the people from whom they have removed themselves. The author recommends finding a healthy balance of infusion between your culture and theirs. Remembering that you are the foreigner who needs to yield, while still allowing yourself certain comforts and familiarities of your homeland. I have striven to find this balance for Bradley and I, and although I cannot admit to 100% success, I feel that overall success has been achieved.

One way we chose to find balance was with our meals. Like every other Khmer home, we always have rice available for ourselves and others; we are ready to eat on the floor, if our guests are more comfortable with that practice; and at least 90% of our produce comes from the street markets. However, being American, we always have oats available for oatmeal for breakfast; we dine regularly on our table or couch, as is the practice of our homeland; and all of our meat comes packaged and refrigerated from the super markets. Throughout the month I sprinkle in Khmer dishes, whenever they work and sound yummy, but like back home, the majority of our diet consists of Tex-Mex type meals. Marissa discovered an awesome tortilla recipe that she was kind enough to share, and it has become one of my favorite things to prepare, as I know the pleasure awaiting my palette once that dough comes together. Never in my life has so much of my time been consumed by food preparation, and then the inconvenience of not having a sink in my prep area does not help. The first several months were rocky in my kitchen, as I worked to find new ways to make familiar meals with sometimes unfamiliar ingredients and/or methods, but for over a year now I have felt confident "stepping into my apron."

Unfortunately, I still struggle finding fulfillment in food preparation. Naturally, I am not a food person. I so enjoy food, but I am one of those weirdos who does not understand how food and conversation go together. If you have spent much time around me, you may have noticed that at get togethers, I tend to be eating by myself, or one of the last ones who sits down to eat. This has nothing to do with not wanting to be with people, but quite the opposite. I do not know anyone who would argue the fact that I enjoy talking and am eager to share a good story, but when it comes to food, I just want to eat. My mother used to get on to me for scarfing my meals down, but I never understood why. I was hungry, and in sitting down to eat, my goal was to end that hunger. Talking only slows that process, and as long as I am chewing properly, there is no reason to slow down... at least in my mind that makes sense. So, for me, food is a necessity, rather than an event. Well, if you know my husband, he is "normal" when it comes to his food habits. Not only is it an event, the more people to converse with during a meal, the better. I have had to learn that although I would be fine with a bowl of cereal or a baked potato for a meal, my husband feels loved when I put in the effort to care for his culinary needs. I am ashamed to admit that the thought of stopping whatever I am doing to spend 2-4 hours preparing and cleaning up after mealtime is frustrating. It makes me feel derailed... even though it is my job. Part of this frustration comes from not having children. I never dreamed I would be a housewife without children. When I watched the boys, food preparation was just a part of my day. Since children center me, I was able to accomplish so much when I had Zach and Max as a part of my day, life, and job. Even though I want to serve Bradley in this capacity, I have to fight the thought "but he can feed himself," and then I feel like a jerk. A while back Bradley shared with me that he feels the most loved and cared for when I take care of our meals. Aside from the pang of guilt I felt, this knowledge was a boost to my frame of mind: to know that I can say "I love you" without saying a word is encouraging. It has inspired me to step outside of my comfort zone. Even though baking in Cambodia is not ideal, I have taken up my rubber spatulas in the name of love!

In an attempt to make food more of an event, and more enjoyable for myself, I turn on music fitting for the cuisine. We play a lot of Latino Jazz during meal preparations, but both old-fashioned Italian and classic country (for southern-style cooking) make regular appearances in our home. Here are a few of my creations over the past year-and-a-half...

Fajitas with homemade tortillas and Mexican rice

Homemade spring rolls and sweet chili sauce

Offical Khmer dish: Lok Lak with beef

Homemade tomato sauce with fettuccine; home-
made focaccia {one of my favs!!!}; and
sparkling strawberry juice - delizioso!

Jalapéno cheese pizza with bread machine pizza
crust and garlic cheese bread (ever since Jonathan
found affordable cheese we have gone crazy
with the dairy delight)

 Jalapéno chicken cheese enchiladas with sour
cream sauce featuring those awesome homemade
tortillas - muy bien!

Homemade creamed corn; mashed potatoes; bread
machine rolls; steak fingers made with pork since
it is less expensive and more available; we topped
it off with oolong sweet tea - finger lickin' good!

Homemade garlic naan with curry rice and butter
chicken (not from scratch, but altered the sauce
to be less tomato-y) - बहुत अच्छा (bahut achchha)!

Traditionally this Indian bread is prepared over the
grill, but we opted to do it in our non-stick skillet...
umm, no complaints whatsoever. They were
fluffier, which is a plus in my cook book.

Although I am no where near mastering the mighty spatula, I feel much more at home in the kitchen, and am willing to step outside of my comfort zone to try new things... even from scratch. To some this seems so silly, but to me composing an outline and writing an essay is a piece of cake... for me that is easier and more enjoyable than making a piece of cake. ;o) Never did I dream that I would be spending so much time and effort on food when we committed to this work, but I have. However, I have a feeling Elijah never dreamed of lying beside a brook for more than the length of a nap, but I have learned that we are not always called to do what fulfills us... I guess that is because it is not about us. So, I have striven to keep my hands busy, my kitchen filled, and my husband happy. In turn, I have found joy in touring the world through my stomach, and I feel blessed that our Heavenly Father has provided the means for us to relish such a variety of flavors. My hat goes off to those around the world who can pick up a spoon and whip up any culinary delight at a moment's notice. Know that you have a gift, and that I, for one, admire your talent. I may not win every cooking battle, but whenever it is appropriate, I will always remember the á la mode! Cheers!

Are you thrilled every time you step into your apron?
What are some of your favorite culinary adventures?